My sad heart slobbers at the poop my heart covered with tobacco-spit They spew streams of soup at it My sad heart drools at the poop Under the jeerings of the soldiers who break out laughing my sad heart drools at the poop my heart covered with tobacco-spit.
Ithypallic and soldierish Their jeerings have depraved it In the rudder you see frescoes Ithypallic and soldierish O, abracadabratic waves Take my heart, let it be washed!
Ithypallic and soldierish their jeerings have depraved it.
When they have used up their quid How will I act,
O stolen heart?
There will be Bacchic hiccups When they have used up their quid I will have stomach retchings If my heart is degraded;
When they have used up their quid How will I act,
O stolen heart?
