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I’m back from Fat City
With this little ditty.
I’ve seen all the feeding.
I’ve seen what it’s breeding.

Way down in Fat City
There’s little that’s pretty
And everyone’s eating
Or taking a beating.

For deep in Fat City
There’s no room for pity;
Their lives have no meaning;
Their ways are demeaning.

The girls in Fat City
Are tattooed and gritty;
They’re plastered and painted;
They’re tasseled and tainted.

The boys in Fat City
Are smelly and shitty;
Adrift and unthinking;
To animals sinking.

I’m tired of Fat City;
It’s hard to be witty
When culture is dying
While chickens are frying.