I know it's getting late, And I know we had a date, Lucia, I hate to make you wait, 'Cause it would be so great to see ya. And tears fall from my eyes, and I must apologise, Lucia, I'll have to stay at home so I called you on the phone, 'Cause I'm stuck here on the throne, with diarrhea. I thought that it was only gas, So I went and let one pa**, Then I stood there in a trance, As I filled my brand new pants. My mother brought me soup, But it only made me poop, Lucia, I never should have ate, But it sounded like a great idea... You know it really hurts, when you got the hurshy squirts, Lucia, There's no toilet paper to be seen, So I used People magazine, And it makes me want to scream 'diarrhea'. *farting noises to a tune* I love you dear with all my heart, But I can't go on with liquid farts, I wouldn't have to break our date, if only I could constipate. I know you got the hots, But I really got the trots, Lucia, There's no need to scream and shout, 'Cause tomorrow we'll go out, I guarantee ya, I know you need your man, So I came up with a plan Lucia, I'll take a cork and superglue, And pound it in there with my shoe, And then I'll be all through, with diarrhea!