Sneering at the leering lady
As she stares and squirms
At Wanda with her saintly smile
And living wig of worms
I like to watch their faces fall
As we disgust and shame them
Seeking suckers is my game
No longer lion taming
Like a pink and pregnant pumpkin
Perched upon her neck
Wanda Wadkins head was hurting
It was bitten by insects
I watched the awkward way she waddled
Walking to the pail
She always used to wash her worms
And clean beneath her nails
I love the should I see inside her
But I just can't love her
Folding fat that rolls around
Like bowling balls in butter
Wanda, Wanda, Wanda
Watch me, watch me, watch me
Won't you watch me for a while
Watch me pick my worms up
And put them in a pile
Watch me sit upon it with
My Mona Lisa smile
Why Wanda why
Do I always watch you cry?
