I really wish that Stephen Walrond would keel over and die
And without irony I can honestly confess
That I hope Stephen Walrond will suffer in death
And without an ounce of remorse or doubt in my mind
I hope Stephen Walrond will meet an end of a horrific kind
I really do wish and I really do pray
And I know its not right or just in anyway
But I really do want and I’m not afraid to say
Because I can’t breathe the same air as Stephen Walrond for another day
And whilst he is still alive
There’s only one goal toward which I will strive
So I clean up my Glock and sharpen my knives
With a view to use a spoon to gouge out Stephen ‘s eyes.
To keep from being idle and getting too bored
I practice with a samurai or a broad sword
Seldom when money and time do afford
I’ll make an effigy with a melon and some cardboard
I’ll make it walk around a mock grocery store
Pulled by rope on a skateboard
Then I’ll ambush it from under the frozen goods
And chase it into the organic foods
Then with a chainsaw I quickly dispatch
Some punishment followed by gasoline and a match
Or sometimes high explosives because I stock pile a batch
Oh Stephen, Oh Stephen
With one eye open sleep
Because if you sleep to deep
Six feet under you’ll sleep
Yours truly,
X
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