Can you see me sitting near you?
No I can’t but I can hear you,
and the joy you bring in the songs you sing is dear to me.
Do you remember that little laddy,
adandoned by his daddy,
an orphan boy with just one toy,
an teddybear.
His mother had died in childbirth,
this is often the case with smokers,
a bulbous head, and on his leg, cankers.
He laying dying in this hovel,
that doubles as a brothel, and in his hand,
a telegram from Jesus.
And the telegram said:
Get up, get up, get out of bed,
don’t you worry about your bulbous head,
so he jumped right up and put on his jeans,
’cause that little boy,
that little boy,
that little boy,
was me.
Get up, get up, get out of bed,
clean the teeth in your bulbous head,
put on your specs,
polish your shoes,
comb your hair,
and tuck in your shirt,
put on your clothes,
and straighten your tie,
because tomorrow, tomorrow,
tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow,
you die.
This song has been downloaded 1978 times and has received 30 votes.
