Lyrics:
"this next story is a true story it concerns to of my favorite subjects: industrial theft and-a t-ts! mmm, what a combo! this is the story the inventor of the modern foundation
Ent that we women wear today was a german scientist and opera lover by the name of otto titsling! this is a true story his name was otto titsling what happened to otto titsling shouldn’t happe
A schnauzer it’s a very sad story I feel I have to share it with you"
Otto titsling, inventor and crout,
Had nothing to get very worked up about
His inventions were failures, his future seemed bleak
He fled to the opera at least twice a week
One night at the opera he saw an aida
Who’s t-ts were so big they would often impede her
Bug-eyed he watched her fall into the pit,
Done in by the weight of those terrible t-ts
Oh, my god! there she blows!
Aerodynamically this bitch was a mess
Otto eye-balled the diva lying comatose amongst the reeds,
And he suddenly felt the fire or inspiration
Flood his soul he knew what he had to do!
He ran back to his workshop
Where he futzed and futzed and futzed
For otto titsling had found his quest:
To lift and mold the female breast;
To point the small ones to the sky;
To keep the big ones high and dry!
Every night he’d sweat and snort
Searching for the right support
He tried some string and paper clips
Hey! he even tried his own two lips!
Well, he stiched and he slaved
And he slaved and he stitched
Until finally one night, in the wee hours of morning,
Otto arose from his workbench triumphant
Yes! he had invented the worlds first
Over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder hooray!
Exhausted but ecstatic he ran
Down the street to the diva’s house
Bearing the prototype in his hot little hand
Now, the diva did not want to try the darn thing on
But, after many initial misgivings,
She finally did
And the sigh of relief that issued forth
From the diva’s mouth
Was so loud that it was mistaken by some
To be the early onset of the seraken winds
Which would often roll through the schwarzwald
With a vengance!
Ahhhhh-i!
But little did otto know,
At the moment of his greatest triumph,
Lurking under the diva’s bed
Was none other than the very worst
Of the french patentees,
Phillip debrassiere
And phil was watching the scene
With a great deal of interest!
Later that night, while our broom hilda slept,
Into the wardrobe phillip softly crept
He fumbled through knickers and corsets galore,
’til he found otto’s titsling and he ran out the door
Crying, "oh, my god! what joy! what bliss!
I’m gonna make me a million from this!
Every woman in the world will wanna buy one
I can have all the goods manufactures in taiwan"
"oh, thank you!"
The result of this swindle is pointedly clear:
Do you buy a titsling or do you buy a brassiere?
Ent that we women wear today was a german scientist and opera lover by the name of otto titsling! this is a true story his name was otto titsling what happened to otto titsling shouldn’t happe
A schnauzer it’s a very sad story I feel I have to share it with you"
Otto titsling, inventor and crout,
Had nothing to get very worked up about
His inventions were failures, his future seemed bleak
He fled to the opera at least twice a week
One night at the opera he saw an aida
Who’s t-ts were so big they would often impede her
Bug-eyed he watched her fall into the pit,
Done in by the weight of those terrible t-ts
Oh, my god! there she blows!
Aerodynamically this bitch was a mess
Otto eye-balled the diva lying comatose amongst the reeds,
And he suddenly felt the fire or inspiration
Flood his soul he knew what he had to do!
He ran back to his workshop
Where he futzed and futzed and futzed
For otto titsling had found his quest:
To lift and mold the female breast;
To point the small ones to the sky;
To keep the big ones high and dry!
Every night he’d sweat and snort
Searching for the right support
He tried some string and paper clips
Hey! he even tried his own two lips!
Well, he stiched and he slaved
And he slaved and he stitched
Until finally one night, in the wee hours of morning,
Otto arose from his workbench triumphant
Yes! he had invented the worlds first
Over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder hooray!
Exhausted but ecstatic he ran
Down the street to the diva’s house
Bearing the prototype in his hot little hand
Now, the diva did not want to try the darn thing on
But, after many initial misgivings,
She finally did
And the sigh of relief that issued forth
From the diva’s mouth
Was so loud that it was mistaken by some
To be the early onset of the seraken winds
Which would often roll through the schwarzwald
With a vengance!
Ahhhhh-i!
But little did otto know,
At the moment of his greatest triumph,
Lurking under the diva’s bed
Was none other than the very worst
Of the french patentees,
Phillip debrassiere
And phil was watching the scene
With a great deal of interest!
Later that night, while our broom hilda slept,
Into the wardrobe phillip softly crept
He fumbled through knickers and corsets galore,
’til he found otto’s titsling and he ran out the door
Crying, "oh, my god! what joy! what bliss!
I’m gonna make me a million from this!
Every woman in the world will wanna buy one
I can have all the goods manufactures in taiwan"
"oh, thank you!"
The result of this swindle is pointedly clear:
Do you buy a titsling or do you buy a brassiere?
