I hope you flip some guy the bird,
He cuts you off and you're forced to swerve
In front of the Beatles tour bus,
bookmobile and a Mack [bad word] Hauling hazardous biological waste,
The light turns red, you have no brakes,
And hard copy gets it all on tape,
So you can see the look on your face.

I hope your Pinto begins to spin,
Takes out a disabled Vietnam veteran,
Mows down a Nobel Peace Prize winner,
And maybe some orphans having Christmas dinner,
Perhaps even the British Royal Family,
And the rabbi that's clutching the bottle-fed puppy,
And we can't forget the newlyweds,
And those Jerrys' kids are as good as dead.

I hope this helps to emphasize,
I hope this helps to clarify -
I hope you die.

I hope your cellmate thinks he's god,
But CNN refer to him as Bowling Ball Bag Bob
Serving time again for abuse of a corpse,
Only this time the victim's a Clydesdale horse.
While he [bad word] to photos of livestock
He does the Silence of the Lambs dance to Christian rock,
Eats [bad word] and quotes from Deliverance
And fights with his imaginary playmate Vince.

I hope he grins like Jack Nicholson
And forces you to play a game called 'Balls on Chin',
And whatever happens next is all a blur,
But you remember fist can be a verb.
And when you finally regain consciousness
You're bound and gagged in a wedding dress,
And the prison guard looks the other way
'Cause he's the guy you flipped the bird the other day.

I hope this helps to emphasize,
I hope this helps to clarify -
I hope you die.