Beautiful fat pants.

Beautiful fat pants, today is our day.

No pretending to read I, Seamus Heaney,

no Skyping with pretendfriend.com.

Beautiful fat pants, beautiful fat pants.

Beautiful fat pants, you remember me.

The reruns of Moesha, the noodle soups,

the new poetry of Suzanne McNews.

Beautiful fat pants, beautiful fat pants.

Beautiful fat pants never killed a goose.

Steelsmith for all of Absentmind Township,

shepherd through the purply Valley of Chafe.

Beautiful fat pants, beautiful fat pants.

Beautiful fat pants, today will be smooth.

The indoors bulge with Internet quilting,

desktop flowers made up of Twitter barbs.

Beautiful fat pants, beautiful fat pants.