Canzone Sona Buoni
The 63rd Street Feast of St. Theresa
was no small shit.
Fat Cheeks was pissed off.
Diet Pepsi churned in her belly.
That stoopid Dongicio gets all the credit.
I smacked Onorphrio.
Onorphrio was a one eyed cat
who played Popeye on New Utrecht Avenue.
The pasta on Fat Cheek's breath
was a sirocco from Delicatessen heaven.
Fat Cheeks loved the feast
but she could give a shit
about the feast
rides or the feast
food. Stuffing your cheeks
with fast feast
food at the feast
made your belly
fatter. Things suck enough without you gotta fat belly
from the beast.
But the local cats
loved feast garbage. Especially, Onorphrio the cat.
Like I say, Onorphrio the cat
garbage was alright. Him and the cats
would check out girl cats.
They'd sniff the little shits
from the girl cats,
say, "Oh you cat!"
and boogie cheek to cheek.
Cat life was alright. But Fat Cheeks
didn't care about the cats,
the tender little shits or the garbage for their bellies.
She say, "fuck that Onorphrio and his stoopid belly."
But Onorphrio knew that bellies
was important. To most cats
bellies are important, even to Jersey cats. If your belly
digs the feast
then your belly
don't make you gotta scream and howl and shit
and you got time to sniff little shits
from funky little girl cats.
But Fat Cheeks
don't care about cats. Stoopid Fat Cheeks.
was gonna beat the shit
out of Dongicio. Fat Cheeks
was gonna smack his cheeks.
She smacked the cat.
Her, Fat Cheeks,
and Fat Cheeks
should get credit at the feast,
"I'm going to the feast,"
say Fat Cheeks,
"and I aint gonna take no shit.
Check it out Dongicio, no shit"
Onorphrio looked stoopid sniffing shit
at least to Fat Cheeks,
she say, "Hey Onorphrio, stop sniffing shit."
Working class bum, though Onorphrio, you're too dumb
to know about little shits.
You too busy stuffing your belly
with feast shit.
We dig the garbage here at the feast.
So check out the Feast
of St. Theresa. The cats
dig it. It cools their bellies
so they can sniff the shit. But that Fat Cheeks
thinks she's hot shit.