Words and Music by Michael Longcor,
Copyright ©1992 by Firebird Arts & Music/BMI.
Used by permission
You can talk about bad habits, about things that aren't nice,
Talk about dysfunction, 'bout your favorite little vice,
But I've got me an obsession that's as crude as it goes,
I've got Rhinotillexomania, I just have to pick my nose.
Rhinotillexomania, excavating all day,
Rhinotillexomania, clearing stuff out of the way,
You can try a facial tissue, even toilet paper too,
But it's Rhinotillexomania when nothing else will do.
Call your fine psychiatrist, let him mess with your head,
Talk to your group therapist, relate until you're dead,
All the counseling in the world won't raise you from the mob,
Rhinotillexomania is a hands-on kind of job.
Rhinotillexomania, puts your hygiene on hold,
Rhinotillexomania, going straight for the gold,
You can try a Roto-Rooter, or an ice cream scooper too,
But it's Rhinotillexomania when nothing else will do
Rhinotillexomania lets you get back in touch,
Lets your fingers do the walking, and it doesn't cost you much.
It may be a filthy habit, but some things you gotta do,
And you gotta get the the Boogermen, before they come get you.
Rhinotillexomania, never minding the pain,
Rhinotillexomania, careful, don't hit the brain,
When it comes to filthy habits of the solitary sort, you know that
Rhinotillexomania is my second favorite sport.
Rhinotillexomania, strip mining your way,
Rhinotillexomania, keeps congestion at bay,
When other methods fail you, You can't smell the rose,
It's Rhinotillexomania, where the digit meets the nose.