|
Here he comes, he's coming down the street
|
With his drunken wife and his kids that he beats
|
He's gonna tell you that life is hard
|
And then he'll dump his trash in your back yard
|
You'll here lots of jokesabout the racially pure
|
When Mr. X moves in next door
|
|
Just take a walk on the ignorant side
|
And you'll get to see what goes on in his mind
|
Just take a walk on the ignorant side
|
And you'll get to see through his eyes
|
|
There he goes, now he's on the lawn
|
With his Sans-a-Belt pants and Hush Puppies on
|
The sky is blue and the bees are buzzin'
|
He must be the product of two first cousins
|
He's got a rifle and a low I.Q.
|
He doesn't close his mouth when he chews his food
|
Oh, please, dear God, strike him dead
|
Aim a lightning bolt at his head
|
Oh, please, Reverend Sun Yung Moon,
|
Send someone to kill him soon
|
Oh, Mohammed, prophet of Allah,
|
Run him over in his own Impala
|
Oh, please, kill him, Shirley MacLaine
|
Take a pipe and bash in his brain
|
|
Here he comes, driving 'round the block
|
Sticking pamphlets in your mailbox
|
Inviting your kids to an Aryan Youth Camp
|
Moving his ammo when his basement gets damp
|
Training his dog to attack your cat
|
Hitting your mower with a baseball bat
|
|
Just take a walk on the ignorant side
|
And you'll get to see what goes on in his mind
|
Just take a walk on the ignorant side
|
And you'll get to see through his eyes
|
|
Here he comes into your life
|
With about as much charm as a bowie knife
|
He'll swim in your pool when you're not home
|
And steal your tools and your garden gnome
|
Here he comes, he's coming down the street
|
With his drunken wife and his kids that be beats
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Here Comes Mr. X
|
| Dead Milkmen |
