A song of “Carl the Unwashed”
Sung to the tune of “ The Brady Bunch”
Here’s a story / about a man named Carl
Who sat around all day in really filthy clothes
He wore one shirt / one day after another
The stench would make you hurl.
And there’s a story / about the girlfriend of Carl
Who lived many miles away in Tennessee
She invited him / to stay for four weeks
But sent him back in two.
When Carl asked why She sent him packing
She pinched her nose and made an evil Sound
“your hygiene, I think is badly lacking
So you’re not welcome around!”
Now he’s back living in the spare room
In a house owned by a grand mother who’s dead.
He gave her the wrong pills, at the wrong time
And now she’s in a tomb
Now it’s six months later and he’s worthless
A hundred pounds heavier, and he's got no job
He bathes about one time every five weeks
He is a filthy slob.
Someday soon he’ll get what’s coming too him
When Uncle Jimmy breaks his knee caps with a board.
He’ll clean up, or else he’ll start a’ packing
Under that new landlord
[ The Carl Bunch, the Carl bunch; his dirty socks is what we call the Carl Bunch]