The baseball bat you keep under your bed,
And the numerous restraining orders don’t matter.
Eventually you will be stone dead.
And I will have your head on a platter.
Yes, I will. Yes, I will. Yes, I will.
Who are you calling, my lovely?
Have you got the police on speed-dial?
They threatened me most fiercely,
When I sent you my blood in a vial.
Yes, I did. Yes, I did. Yes, I did.
You come at me with a kitchen knife,
You try to stick it into my chest.
Happily for me, I still keep my life,
And remain your beloved sex pest.
Yes, I do. Yes, I do. Yes, I do.
Why are you avoiding me, my dove?
Is it because I keep licking your washing?
It is just the way that I show you my love;
At least ’til the police give me a coshing.
Yes, they do. Yes, they do. Yes, they do.
Why are you hiding behind the door?
I just wanted to give you this pillow,
Stuffed with armpit hairs and gore,
I promise you’ll like it, I know.
Yes, you will. Yes, you will. Yes, you will.
Why are you screaming, my heart?
Is it because I keep stealing your clothes?
Or is it the gift of stale bottled farts,
That give a fright to your nose?
Yes, it did. Yes, it did. Yes, it did.
Why do you call me a freak?
Is it because I want to make a suit from your skin?
I really am quite meek,
And besides we all like to sin.
Yes, we do. Yes, we do. Yes, we do.
Why are you crying, snugglemonkey?
It is only you I want to smother.
Please stop your weeping, I plea,
Come here and kiss your mother.
Kissy kiss. Kissy kiss. Kissy kiss.