(Sung to the tune of the theme song of The Beverly Hillbillies)
Let me tell you all a story ‘bout Corona 19, The likes of preparation for which we have never seen
I was shopping at my grocery and it was quite a sight, there was not one single roll of it in sight
Toilet paper that is, soft gold, on a roll.
I turned on my news, sure enough to beat the band, Grocery shelves were empty from Kansas to Japan
I thought I found a 12-pack, much to my surprise, someone ran up and grabbed it right before my eyes
Squeezed the Charmin, Angel soft, paperless trip.
I was sure there would be some if I shopped online, have it overnighted shipped by Amazon with Prime
Surely I could hold it in just for one more night, Sold Out said the screen, a disappointing sight
Wiped out, Northern lights, Cottonelle-d.
You know what they say about any ship in a storm, through imagination creativity is born
I thought about where it likely could be found, Soon as they could be my feet were on the ground
A paper chase, core belief, great Scott.
I thought about Mr. Wimple — and just what he would do; if in a squeeze for a single ply or two
I stopped at the Dollar General for a pack of 12, None of the shelves, I’m in coronavirus hell
Got the runs, can’t sit down, squatter’s rights.
It’s very hard to do that toilet paper math, 12 equals 24; 36 from 24 is after that
If 6 rolls equal 18 and 12 is 24, I want half a dozen because I only really need the 4
The great divide, doesn’t add up, toilet trees.
I guess my quest is over, gave up without a fight, there just is simply no tissue left in sight
We all take for granted, things that always please; guess we thought that paper simply grew on toilet trees
Timber land, rough cut, hiney skin.
When the epidemic’s over, I have planned really far ahead; next time there’s a panic, I won’t have to dread
I already signed up on the dotted line retail; toilet paper of the month club delivered in the mail
Paper trained, deep seated, Y’all leave the lid down — ya” hear!