Clean Latrine (Song Lyrics)

(Spoken)

There has to be something close to one of these exits somewhere.

“Next Rest Stop 40 MILES,” the sign taunted me.

It was almost like, you’ve got a big enough pair to try tomake it another thirty-five minutes big man?

Well, do you?

Do you?

You should’ve went before you left the house.

Isn’t that what Dad always said?

Did Dad have irritable bowel syndrome?

An affinity for Taco Bell?

Too much coffee?

Nah, didn’t think so.

It’s Two A.M.

(Eight Measure Break)

(PRE-A Cappella-tune of “Twilight Zone,”-Golden Earring)

It’s Two A.M.
Burrito’s Gone.
I’m sick of waiting,
Gotta drop one…

(Music Break-8 Measures)

(Verse 1)

I can’t say I didn’t know what I was getting into,
Forty miles away from the rest stop I didn’t drive into;
I’m feeling heavy cramping in my pelvis way down low,
But, I’ve seen four pulled over tonight, so I have to drive slow.

I’m scanning each exit from a half a mile away,
If I see something close, I’ll get off, if not, I’ll stay;
Like a balloon filling with air so goes the pressure down there,
Only the balloon will eventually pop and I’ll not dare.

(Chorus)

What I need is a clean latrine,
It doesn’t have to be the cleanest latrine I have ever seen;
I don’t expect a filling station latrine to have a sheen,
But at least something not overly obscene.

What I need is a clean pot,
Right now I’m willing to offer everything that I’ve got;
I’d give you even more, this pressure on my stomach’s getting hot,
But the place can’t be completely shot.

(VERSE 2)

I’m nearing an exit from which an Exxon is nearby,
The sight of that Tiger is so beautiful I could just cry;
The bathroom is unoccupied and I found out exactly why,
People were getting their Double-X on in the Exxon and it’s a sty.

(SPOKEN)

FUCK!!!

Who the Hell would have sex on a nasty toilet?

A used condom floating on the water, I didn’t examine the contents, but I’ve seen enough to know.

(VERSE 2 CONTINUED)

I drove to the other side of the ramp, and there I found a Sheetz,
Sheetz are well-known for having clean bathrooms and good eats;
Not that I need the latter, but the former is crucial right now,
Because I’m so desperate, I’m actually sitting on a towel.

I walk in and it’s occupied, so I walk around and wait,
Squeezing my legs together makes for an interesting gait;
As I’m pacing back and forth I can’t help seeing all the food,
The sight of which puts my colon even more in the mood…

(Chorus)

What I need is a clean latrine,
It doesn’t have to be the cleanest latrine I have ever seen;
I don’t expect a filling station latrine to have a sheen,
But at least something not overly obscene.

What I need is a clean pot,
Right now I’m willing to offer everything that I’ve got;
I’d give you even more, this pressure on my stomach’s getting hot,
But the place can’t be completely shot.

(VERSE 3)

Ten minutes go by and the door opens not a crack,
I have no choice but to turn my attention to the magazine rack;
I pick up a copy of People wondering if I have to buy to take it in,
While I hear the fryer going and grease being scrapped in the bin.

I have finally reached the point where I can’t take it anymore,
I’m pounding on that door and giving the bastard in there what-for;
I’m going to crack that guy’s head like the cook’s cracking eggs,
But, suddenly then I feel something warm down the backs of my legs.

(Musical Break-Eight Measures)

(SPOKEN)

I’m humiliated and dejected and just then,
One of the employees comes and sees the bad place I’ve been;
He said:

“I’m sorry man, what happened to you just isn’t right,
But, someone took the sign down…to open that door you have to pull up and to the right.”

(Chorus)

What I need is a clean latrine,
It doesn’t have to be the cleanest latrine I have ever seen;
I don’t expect a filling station latrine to have a sheen,
But at least something not overly obscene.

What I need is a clean pot,
Right now I’m willing to offer everything that I’ve got;
I’d give you even more, this pressure on my stomach’s getting hot,
But the place can’t be completely shot.

Straight up, I need a clean place to shit,
I’ll take the first one that comes and not care a bit;
I just need a sanitary location to make a quick drop,
And I promise that next time, I’ll hit the rest stop.

I like it. Kant suffered from physical constipation. Some see this as becoming mental constipation. Thank the forces that be for laxatives of thoughtful opposition to sometimes mental obstructions to the flow of ideas. I especially like your references to having the balls to refrain from doing something as conflicting with the natural it must be done.

Thanks, Ierrellus!

It was actually completely true, except for the last few lines concerning not making it. I took a pass on the Exxon for the stated reason, went to Sheetz, and there actually was a guy in the bathroom for whom I waited ten minutes, though I didn’t crack his skull.

There is something almost Philosophical about nature vs. combating nature by refraining from what must be done. I appreciate you pointing that out as I never thought of it and it almost gives the song lyrical legitimacy.

You’re welcome. Your poem strikes me on more than one level of awareness, which is what good lyrics should do.

Thanks again, Irrelleus.

I’ve always regarded you as someone that sees, “More than what is on the surface,” in many ways, though. To that extent, I would suggest what you read into the lyrics is more reflective of your abilities as a thinker than of mine as a writer.

The compliment, however, is much appreciated.