Little black things, little black things
Crawling up and down my arms.
If I wait ‘till they have babies,
I could start a black thing farm.
Haven’t had a bath in two years,
And I never wash my clothes.
Now I have these little black things,
Where they come from, heaven knows.
Once a cute girl tried to kiss me,
But she screamed and gave a yell,
And left before I could ask her,
Was it black things or the smell?