The bugger in the short sleeves fucked my wife Did it quick and split Back home, fresh as a daisy to Maisy, oh Maisy And the twelve-bore it stood in the corner Quite operatic in its self disgust It blew him all over the living room floor Like parrot shit, parrot spit, parrot shit was shot Now suppose it was someone familiar Someone we all would know Embarrasing denouement, ne c'est pas? Familiar hyperbole And there would go the secret plot The piss had missed the hole in the pot Like that ancient teenage dream From soul to poison soul to poison soul Guts, guts, got no guts And stitches don't help at all Guts, guts, got no guts Holes in the body, holes in the legs Holes in the forehead, holes in the head Holes in the body, holes in the legs There should never be holes at all There should never be holes at all So: kill all you want or more Make sure, do it right Dead is dead, and door nails forget And then you'll notice How the waster and the wasted Get to look like one another In the end, in the end In the end, in the end In the end, in the end In the end, in the end