SMELLS LIKE TEEN LAUNDRY
…
Load’s not done, it’s startin’ to smell,
Socks and shirts straight outta hell.
Dirty jeans, they stand on their own,
This laundry pile has overgrown.
Yeah, it’s ripe now—no escape,
Clothes are tryin’ to suffocate.
Febreeze can’t win, it’s all in vain,
I might never wash again.
…
Smells like teen laundry,
A sock swamp and funk debris.
Can’t find my bed, lost in this stink,
My clothes have formed a sentient link.