You watch me on your TV.
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Say that my job is easy.
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Say I am not athletic.
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You think my sport's pathetic.
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But you can't judge me 'till you walked a mile in my bowling shoes.
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So I don't get all the ladies.
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Gotta mullet from the 80's
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I am known throughout the valleys.
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As the prophet of alleys.
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And as I roll the ball I cry, "Let me bowl or let me die!"
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I'm Almighty Malachi, the bowling god.
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The smell of resin gets my high.
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Kiss those fucking pins goodbye!
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I'm Almighty Malachi, the bowling... the bowling... god.
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Got a ball that's smooth and all black.
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I keep it in my lucky ball sack.
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I get a feeling in my soul.
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As I finger every hole.
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And as I roll the ball I cry, "Let me bowl or let me die!"
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I'm Almighty Malachi, the bowling god.
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The smell of resin gets my high.
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Kiss those motherfucking pins goodbye!
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I'm Almighty Malachi, the bowling... bowling...
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Not a single man will try, to beat Almighty Malachi.
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All who challenge me are slain.
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Come on, fuckers, pick a lane.
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Marshall Holden, Gary Dickens, get in line for your ass kickins'.
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John Patraglia, Norm Duke, your so lame it makes me puke.
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Who among the pro-bowl sector.
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Dares to don his wrist protector.
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Not that pussy Nelson Burton, tells me that his wrist is hurtin'.
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Hey my prophet, Earl the Pearl, are ya' scared to give the ball a hurl?
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How bout' Dicky Weber and his son Pete? I'll turn the motherfuckers to cream of wheat!
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And as I roll the ball I cry, "Let me bowl or let me die!"
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I'm Almighty Malachi, the bowling god.
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The smell of resin gets my high.
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Kiss those fucking pins goodbye!
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I'm Almighty Malachi, the bowling... bowling god!!
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Yeaaaaaaah!
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The bowling god!
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Bowling Song (Almighty Malachi, Professional Bowling God)
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Stephen Lynch |