Someone Shit my pants again!

Someone Shit My Pants Again!

Woke up facedown by the basement stairs,

One shoe missing, puke in my hair.

There’s a traffic cone where my shirt should be,

And a strange warm feeling surrounding me.

Big Mike’s asleep in the neighbor’s yard,

Clutching a toaster and a birthday card.

Crazy Dave is preaching, “Birds aren’t real!”

While a girl named Jen tattoos a banana peel.

My head is pounding, my vision’s black,

There’s a shopping cart parked on my back.

I tried to stand, then I froze instead—

Something terrible happened below my waist!

Someone shit my pants again!

Was it me, or one of my friends?

There’s no toilet paper, no evidence—

Just a smell that could kill ten presidents!

Someone shit my pants again!

I swore last time would be the end.

I came here wearing khaki brown—

Thank God, ’cause no one else can tell right now!

The DJ’s just a dude with an iPhone Six,

Playing ska songs and Nickelback remixes.

A divorced magician named Uncle Lou

Pulled half a hot dog out of his shoe.

There’s a guy in the kitchen selling “party advice,”

He’s wearing swim fins and rolling dice.

The host’s weird cousin dressed like Cher

Keeps cutting people’s names into his chest hair.

The cops showed up at quarter to four,

But Officer Steve passed out by the door.

I blamed the dog, but the dog looked pissed—

Then slowly backed away from the crime scene!

Someone shit my pants again!

Was it me, or one of my friends?

There’s no toilet paper, no evidence—

Just a smell that could kill ten presidents!

Someone shit my pants again!

This mystery may never end.

I came here looking for romance—

Now everybody calls me Captain Crappy Pants!

Whoa-oh-oh!

Who shit my pants?

Whoa-oh-oh!

I need a second chance!

Whoa-oh-oh!

Nobody touch my hands!

Maybe growing up means knowing when to stop,

Maybe dignity was all I ever lost.

Maybe life is more than getting drunk with Brad—

Then Brad yelled, “Body shots!”

And I forgot the thought I had.

The sunrise hit my bloodshot eyes,

I watched my self-respect slowly die.

Mom pulled up and said, “Get in.”

Then rolled the windows down again.

Check the couch!

Check the lawn!

Check the security camera at dawn!

Check my drink!

Check my friends!

Someone shit my pants—

AGAIN!

Someone shit my pants again!

It had to be one of my friends!

There’s a trail that starts behind the shed—

And ends exactly where I went to bed!

Someone shit my pants again!

Now I’m banned from parties ’til I’m dead.

But next weekend, we’ll do it all again—

At Crazy Dave’s house…

He’s got adult Depends!

Whoa-oh-oh!

This night went bad!

Whoa-oh-oh!

Those were my favorite pants!

Whoa-oh-oh!

Wait—whose pants are these?

…Oh, shit.