I stepped inside the mix-it-up machine.

They said it could mix up anything,

But I didn't think it would do a thing,

So I stepped inside and heard a ding.

I felt something messing up my face,

Parts shifting wildly all over the place.

I think I separated at the waist,

And for a moment, lost my sense of taste.

Then came another ding—

The mix-it-upper finished doing its thing.

I stepped back out of the machine,

And let me tell you, it really can mix up anything!

In place of eyes, I had two mouths—

One pointed north, the other south.

Through one, I could pout,

And through the other, only shout.

My eyes ended up fairly near

The spots where my ears used to appear

The world used to look so crisp and clear

Now, I'll never see the same, I fear.

My leg took the place of my nose,

Now when I'm stuffy and have to blow,

I do it right out through my toes,

And how weird that feels, you'll never know.

My fingers poke out top like hair.

It looks so odd, but I don't care.

Come shake my hand if you dare—

But maybe bring a glove to wear.

No one ever sees my nose,

It's always hidden in my clothes.

Now, without a doubt, I know,

I don't smell as lovely as a rose.

To move, I hop on my left arm.

I really should live on a farm,

Where I can't cause any harm—

Locked up tight in an old red barn.

(Just make sure it's cozy and warm.)

If you happen to see the mix-it-upper,

Kick it hard with all the strength you can muster,

For it's the machine that's made me suffer.

Excuse me now—it'stime for supper.