And now, for something in *truly* bad taste:

YES WE'RE WHITE TRASH POOR
(When I'm Sixty-Four)

Now that we're older, haven't a care
Do we, kroobitch whore?
Pimping out our daughter so we make some dough
Glad we raised a hardworking ho'
Sorry I killed our dear little son
Or we'd make some more
Got the boy loaded
His head exploded
Yes, we're white trash poor

Sarah still can screw
But if the darling won't obey
I could kill her too!

Isn't it dandy, trash on our lawn
Classic Kroo décor
Floatin' in a rotten moldy old canoe
Come here darling, yank my kazoo
Wish that I hadn't whacked little Nate
With that two-by-four
Skull had a schism
Brain embolism
Yes, we're white trash poor

Every Summer we can get rent a tent
And go to Lake Royale off of Sarah's take
Work her to her grave
Carbuncles on her knees
All that head she gave

They say I'm crazy, all full of warps
Rotten to the core
They were out to get me now I'm overjoyed
Though the doc says I'm paranoid
Poor little Nate, we did sell his corpse
Yes, it was a score!
Me and my honey
Needed the money
'Cause we're White Trash Poor

-
Sgt. Shlepper