O how I would like to kill, kill, kill
Kill, kill, kill; kill, kill, kill
O how I would like to kill, kill, kill
That bastard who lives upstairs.
I want to wring his neck with hands bare
Crush his windpipe, tear out his hair
Paint his nails, hit him with a chair
That bastard who lives upstairs.
He's so damn loud and gets so drunk
Stands on my porch with the other punks
Knocks over my stuff, scares my monk(ey)
That bastard who lives upstairs.
But we all know I'm not an evil gal
Such a sweetie, lovely Wingal
The nicest person, everyone's pal
Except to that bastard upstairs.
So I will live quietly and plot
I need a boyfriend who thinks I'm hot
Preferably a tall one who moral is not
So he can kill that bastard upstairs.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
There is so much passion in these lines...so much hidden meaning...Beautiful, Wingal, beautiful. Bravo.
now if only you could finish the Fragel Rock musical....
I totally get to be the stoned fragle
Post a Comment