We got a snazzy, new room With two whole benches It's practically rodent free We got expensive perfume For all our stenches As swellegant as can be And with these pointy, new shoes To walk through mud in Fancy silk squares to cough up blood in Baby, let's face it This is as good as it gets
Gwynne: I suppose it is rather nice. We got the classier type a bedbug species Between our new burlap sheets see Chef: We got a custom made pipe That dumps are feces On one of the nicer streets Gwynne: And when there's something amiss Inside our breeches Chef: Our barber applies his fattest leeches Gwynne: Why not embrace it? Chef + Gwynne: This is as good as it gets
Chef: We're part of the upper lower class now Gwynne: Sickly, yet, though, so chic Chef: Our glass is half-full Gwynne: We own a glass now Chef: We bathe once a week Gwynne: Well, “bathe,” so to speak
Chef + Gwynne: And as out station in life keeps growing stronger We're growing in more ways, too Gwynne: I think my tapeworm is, like, a whole foot longer Chef: By now I might have a few Chef + Gwynne: And though our breath and our teeth may still be rotten Together, just look how far we've gotten Chef: Baby, we made it Gwynne: Totally slayed it Chef + Gwynne: Why would we trade it? This is... As good as it ge-e-e-e-e-e-ts