When it hits you, you won’t control it

You’d better run, but don’t you blow it

Try to squeeze, and you just might slow it

Now start to look, for some washroom signs

The ones they hide, at those desperate times

And you’d better pray, there are no lines

You’re almost there, but what is this

You’re leg is wet, but it’s not ****

Pieces of peanuts, you just can’t miss

Here it comes, like a dam that’s split

Or a plug for a tub, that just won’t fit

A thick watery grave, that’s full of ****

So now you’re there, but it’s too late

This horrible thing, must be your fate

Designers of malls, are the ones to hate

They purposely build them, at the end of long halls

So no one can make it, when they feel natures calls

Someone should kick them, right square in the balls

Just make sure you go, before you visit the malls