Jimmy cried for two days in a tent of isolation and protection.
Otherwise known as a pine tree with a towel hanging over its projection.
There was nothing we could really do until Dillon's phone got service.
So me and Ethan sat in the tent of nylon and raintarpness.
Jimmy didn't eat for two days, he soon became unconscious.
He really started to smell from his dirty butthole's rottedness.
And me and my buddies knew, he would freeze in those clothes made of cotton.
(COTTON KILLS! COTTON KILLS! COTTON KILLS!)

One day though, we heard a thundering above.
A helicopter came to rescue our dear comrade.
We quickly lit a fire so the vehicle could hov…er
And land next to the limp body of our friend.
They gave us gasmasks to block the stench.

We couldn't go with, but we knew our Jimmy was in good hands.
Much better at least than his own. (Which were not great replacements for toilet paper.)
It was then that we knew our time to camp had to end for that summer.
It was then that we knew that we had to help when our friend in a hospital would suffer.
So we broke down camp, got in a canoe and rowed our way to the city.
Why'd this happen to us, why can't this parasite have pity?
So we rowed and rowed all day.
Until our arms felt like they would break.
Jimmy was on his way to safety and that was one thing we knew.
As for what would happen to us, we didn't have a clue...