Dancing the night away in an Elgin nightclub,
I drank three bottles, then had four more,
Not realising what I had just done,
I had just cleared this Elgin dancefloor

Were my moves just to good and impressive?
Did my body have too much style?
Then I caught a waft of what I did,
The smell laid round there for a while

So mental note don't have Kopparberg,
Not even one small sip,
Cos chemical reactions and digestions,
Make a hell of a fart let rip!

You may think its above you,
You may think your smart,
You may think your mature,
You'd still laugh at my fart!

So lets move from this smelly scene,
Up the stairs where the others had ran,
Strutting my stuff again for the French girls,
Then I realised another reaction had began

Quickly moving away from the crowd,
Passing the Russians, Germans and Poles,
Then I figured out what the problem was,
Uncooked Barbecued Sausage Rolls

So I lost myself in the other dancefloor,
Couldn't find a way pass the mass,
There was only one thing left to do,
Let rip with my master-gas

On reflection a year later,
Still not living it down,
I dont let it upset me,
I shall not frown

Because over the world,
In villages and towns,
The legend, the farter,
My stories gone round