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A Boy Named John
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The Tale of Beezlebu
It was a dark and stormy night,
And my fate washed on the rocks.
With the moon shinging bright,
And the life slowly dropped.
Three whole days it took,
In that tree I shook.
What could this mean,
Mind games I should've seen.
I'm a sick man,
I was born for this game.
The prize changed but the score stayed the same.
I can't help but think that my job's lost complexion.
There is no greater bore than perfection.
Sound the sirens,
Release the hounds.
My reasons for murder are short of profound,
Some may say that my actions protest,
I'm sorry that you feel that way my young guest.
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Oooooooooooooooooooooo
I'm a sick man I was born for this game.
The prize changed but the score stayed the same.
I can't help but think that my job's lost complexion.
There is no greater bore than perfection.
(guitar solo)
Hey! x8
LA LA LA!
Well, I'm a sick man,
I was born for this game.
The prize changed but the score stayed the same.
I can't help but think that my job's lost complexion.
There is no greater bore than perfection.
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