rano singing bass, my dear
A puzzle piece that won't fit in its space
But pieces of puzzles can be fixed,
Just beat them down until
Every person's greatest fear
Welcome to World of Warcraft!
The battle for your mind will be won,
There's no saints or stoics,
no quaint, sweet heroics.
You're such a prima donna belle, my dear
But what the party wants is a chorus girl
Your mind is a crusty oyster shell, my dear
But smash it open and we'll
Drowning we can simulate,
mutil ate and asphyxiate.
the sobs of our gratifier.
The battle for your mind will be won,
There's no saints or stoics,
no quaint, sweet heroics.
Tear out your nostrils and nails with pliers
A furnace with flames of dark hellfire
from this foregoing expositional song,
contains the worst thing in the world.
For everyone there is something unendurable,
merely an instinct which cannot
It may be burial alive or death by fire.
In your case, squeak rats. No!
Oh, Brian, I'll do anything!
There's nothing left in me.
No aberrance, no defiance,
no desire for revenge or reprisal.
Winston, I've had it up to!
Hit it! Charrington, bring the rats
Rats make your heart go pitter -pat,
The jitters of a cat, a tonic fear
These rodents will dance their rat -a -tat,
Then tear apart your face from ear to ear
Eat your cheek, or bite your eyes,
And piss on the flesh of your tongue.
The battle for your mind has been won,
You'll find your new martyr,
You're insane, you're fanatical
This therapy's quite radical
Oh shucks, I'm so proud of that pun
He's so proud of that pun
Your fervid phobias are now advancing
and they're primed and prancing
No terror trumps the sight
By the parties in Pramada
No, no, please, no, no, no, no, no, no
Do it to Julia, do it to Julia, not me, Julia
Do it to Julia, do it to Julia
4.7
