Fatmankev
Chef, Writer, and Midnight Toker
- Reaction score
- 240
Read this to the tune of "These are a Few of my Favorite Things."
Christmas is merry and whole lots of fun,
My name is Kevin and I've got a gun.
Let us go out on the town Christmas Eve,
'Cuz I've got a trick or two up my sleeve.
Children and parents all holding hands,
As most of the crowd rocks out to the bands.
The music is nice, but soon it will change,
Because I am totally fuckin' deranged.
One shot or two shots directed at the crowd,
Terrified screams in the skies makes it so loud.
I grab up four children as everyone runs,
God, Merry Christmas, this shit's so much fun.
Back to my home with children in tow,
They sob and they whine and they ask me to go.
I whisper sweet-nothings in all of their ears,
And kindly I wipe away all of their tears.
One asks me a question, "Where is my mommy?"
And I simply tell him, "She'll come here soon, Tommy."
So I whistle a tune and get back to my deeds,
And their eyes keep on watching as I pick up speed.
I work with a vengeance, faster and faster,
I stab a knife in the first little bastard.
Theirs screams are a chorus, but they're muffled and queer,
The next little kid gets shot in the ear.
Sirens are blaring, they're getting closer,
I'm getting nervous, so I pick up a toaster.
Two hits in the face, then choked with the chord,
His dying noises sound tired and bored.
The wails and moans help drown out the noise,
As I rip off the face of one poor young boy.
I take a quick bite, a nibble at most,
before I throw the flesh on a piece of toast.
I take a few bites before the door goes to splinters,
As several police burst in with the winter.
The cold biting frost does nothing to keep,
Hundreds of bullets from piercing my sleep.
I wake up in my bed, I'm pretty drowsy,
That fuckin' acid was sort of lousy.
Did I even trip, my memory's gone,
Maybe I better just end this song.
Christmas is merry and whole lots of fun,
My name is Kevin and I've got a gun.
Let us go out on the town Christmas Eve,
'Cuz I've got a trick or two up my sleeve.
Children and parents all holding hands,
As most of the crowd rocks out to the bands.
The music is nice, but soon it will change,
Because I am totally fuckin' deranged.
One shot or two shots directed at the crowd,
Terrified screams in the skies makes it so loud.
I grab up four children as everyone runs,
God, Merry Christmas, this shit's so much fun.
Back to my home with children in tow,
They sob and they whine and they ask me to go.
I whisper sweet-nothings in all of their ears,
And kindly I wipe away all of their tears.
One asks me a question, "Where is my mommy?"
And I simply tell him, "She'll come here soon, Tommy."
So I whistle a tune and get back to my deeds,
And their eyes keep on watching as I pick up speed.
I work with a vengeance, faster and faster,
I stab a knife in the first little bastard.
Theirs screams are a chorus, but they're muffled and queer,
The next little kid gets shot in the ear.
Sirens are blaring, they're getting closer,
I'm getting nervous, so I pick up a toaster.
Two hits in the face, then choked with the chord,
His dying noises sound tired and bored.
The wails and moans help drown out the noise,
As I rip off the face of one poor young boy.
I take a quick bite, a nibble at most,
before I throw the flesh on a piece of toast.
I take a few bites before the door goes to splinters,
As several police burst in with the winter.
The cold biting frost does nothing to keep,
Hundreds of bullets from piercing my sleep.
I wake up in my bed, I'm pretty drowsy,
That fuckin' acid was sort of lousy.
Did I even trip, my memory's gone,
Maybe I better just end this song.
