Night Soil Man 3

On the streets, mothers grilled guttersnipes, Not to squeeze runny nose and runaway, Perchance met by chance, Sangfroid song is sang by heart, Just an air breath of dare devil juvenile hector, A furious broom, soaked inside grub of soil, And chased until bedaub with blessed syrup, On the contrary, likely dumped the grim green on the street, While keeping odourful astonishment long after, Some swore that ground should open. May not tell if lives in a hovel or cave, A scary terror fleet flit streets stinking bum of the underworld, Possessor of all waste, his living chamber are painted With umber dung with dumber grey and dummy dawn, Shower rumble and wet sickening dapple flower, Crawling vine holdsway and stranglehold, Blood sucking vampire pods looking unhealthy, And bobbing Piranhas in his muddy crystal ball aquarium, Fed soft wobbly creatures with no nose, nonsense and eyesores, While Dung Beetles are the beloved pets.