The Dirtiest Man
in the World
Oh, I’m Dirty Dan, the world’s dirtiest man,
I never have taken a shower.
I can’t see my shirt it’s so covered with
dirt, And my ears have enough to grow
flowers.
But the water is either a little too hot,
Or else it’s a little too cold.
I’m musty and dusty and patchy and
scratchy And mangy and covered with
mold.
I live in a pen with five hogs and a hen And
three squizzly lizards who creep in My bed,
and they itch as I squirm, and I twitch In
the cruddy old sheets that I sleep in.
If you looked down my throat with a
flashlight, you’d note
That my insides are coated with rust.
I creak when I walk and I squeak
when I talk,
And each time I sneeze I blow dust.
The thought of a towel and soap makes me
howl’
And when people have something to tell me
They don’t come and tell it—they stand back
and yell it.
I think they’re afraid they might smell me.
The bedbugs that leap on me sing me to
sleep.
And the garbage flies buzz me awake.
They’re the best friends I’ve found and I
fear they might drown
So I never go too near a lake.
Each evening at nine I sit down to dine
With the termites who live in my chair,
And I joke with the bats and have intimate
chats With the cooties who crawl in my chair.
I’d brighten my life I just found a wife.
But I fear that will never be
Until I can find a girl, gentle and kind,
With a beautiful face and a sensitive mind,
Who sparkles and twinkles and glistens and
shines And who’s almost as dirty as me.