The mongrel cat came home,
Holding half a head,
Proceeded to show it off
To all his new found friends.
He said: “I been where I liked,
I slept with who I like,
She ate me up for breakfast,
She screwed me in a vice,
But now
I don't know why
I feel so tongue-tied…”
I sat in the cupboard
And wrote it down real neat.
They were cheering and waving,
Cheering and waving,
Twitching and salivating like with myxomatosis.
But it got edited [bad word] up,
Strangled beaten up.
Used in a photo in time magazine,
Buried in a burning black hole in Devon.
I don't know why I feel so tongue-tied,
Don't know why
I feel
So skinned alive.
My thoughts are misguided and a little naive,
I twitch and I salivate like with myxomatosis,
You should put me in a home or you should put me down,
I got myxomatosis,
I got myxomatosis…
Yeah no one likes a smart [bad word] but we all like stars,
But that wasn't my intention, I did it for a reason,
He shook hands with the cripples and he gave them all milk
He did a few card tricks for his mafia geeks, but now
I don’t know why I feel so tongue-tied