My name is sir walter john bethlehelm
and I am a knight of a mythical realm
my horse is black as the hell night sky
Enemies scatter scared by my War cry
The syndrome i have is classic but great
no elbow it seems can poke peas from my plate
i keep my cards right close to my chest
and when i beat you at poker its because i'm the best
But sometimes a parsnip shaped dynamic fiend
Will surprise me by singing and prancing it seems
Sylvester stallone can convince him to stop
But they’ve run out of slys at the local shop
The vegetable dancer will suck out my eyes
It might take one or multiple tries
My chest kept cards and peas on my plate
Oh save them all from their transexual fate
Peeling the corner from one of the cards
Opens a portal to beyond the stars
We enter the doorway with lisps and some cake
Me and my parsnip, cards, peas and plate
When I wake up I'm surrounded by crabs
All crawling in piles of unwanted flab
Barnacled feet protrude from the wall
From terribly old fashioned porter named paul
I take up my mace and jump on my horse
Push through the crustacian crowd with some force
But then from my side a terrible wail
Makes my fingers twitch and my face go pale
From all around me a din without equal
Erupts like a sound made by too many people
I look on in horror I start to get giddy
And see peadophiles, buggering kiddies
A great crowd of gibbering, sweaty faced men
All gurning and grunting, I turn away, then
From out of the very most corner of eye
I see brian blessed, but he's half man half fly
Oh great bearded buzzing and bellowing Brian
Please jump on thes dirty old peado's and fry'em
With your laser eyes and your sparkling cape
Prevent these poor kids from their peado rape fate
The beardy bluebottle flew into the sky
And hovers for a moment and calls out a cry
'These rapists' I think 'will certianly die'
As Brian unbuckles his pants and screams out 'Diiiiiiive'
After the squashing is over and done
My precious collection has been whisked by my mum
A bowl of bright green pea coloured cards
In a tuppaware box from a holiday in france
I snatch up my luncheon, and then turn to run
The crabs and the paedos are smashed into one
Great big evil monster with brian as a face
I will need better weapons than my one little mace
Putting my fingers deep into my ears
I squeeze out a sound from tears for fears
A high pitched oink with a grease porky beat
my face sends forth pot roast and knocks Brian to his feet
The wobbling child molesting brian blessed foe
Wobbles his matter and begins to glow
From out of my pocket fly chas and dave
And construct from brian's carcass a cockney cave
And lo and behold a knees up was had
With dubious dave and the man they call Chaz
And paedos went fleeing as if from a storm
No longer a threat to the gasping new born
But Chazzy and Dave have a dastadly scheme
And produce from their pockets a magical bean
"Hear you go sonny, put this in the ground"
And then from their mouths...a giggling sound
I was dubious yes I thought this all strange
So I waited until they were out of range
Then not waiting for any more time to go by
The magical bean went into my eye
It lodged there quite sweetly, like a well behaved bean
But later that day I began to scream
As from out of my face grew a massive bin liner
And my body oozed pus like a mouldy vagina
From out of the murk came the smug double act
"ha...you have made such a terrible pact"
They said to me lauging as I struggled and squirmed
If you take beans from us you will surely be turned
Into a miserable vaginoid sack
"Please help me" I cried "wont you please turn me back"
"I don’t think so" they smirked and threw me to the mud
Your going to be the new bin in our pub.
My prestigeous knight status was stained and smeared
I was no longer a master of violence and fear
Now people deposit soiled waste in my eyes
Whilst chas and dave wear their cockney disguise
Whilst I lay crouched and covered in muck
I discover my peas behind an old packet of 'luck'
I rummage around in my bin liner eyes
And discover a rather perculiar prize
Flipping right over onto my back
I manage to reach right down into the sack
And feeling my way around In the dark
I grab something warm the shape of an arse
The arse is podgy, callous, caucasion
And not only that, it's dressed for the occasion
Wearing a bow tie and shorts made from crime
It barks out for me to tell it the time
Why? Well dressed anus, do you need to know,
The name of the hour and can we not go
To a shoppe far from here where perhaps there are guns
And shoot chaz and dave, their dads and their mums.
The stylish sphincter, turned around, winked
And pulled out intestines all fleshy and pink
From out of the gap inbetween its pale cheeks
"With this new time lapse stomach, I'll bury these freaks!!"
It screamed with a terrible deafening roar
I told it the time as I dove to the floor
Over my head the bums guts went a screaming
To blow bits of dave all over the ceiling
Dave and the Chaz were blown up like balloons
Which brought to an end their gay cockney tunes
An with the end of this strange batty verse
I was freed from the pain of the pubby bin curse.
I leapt full of joy to my newly found feet
And ran like a spaz from the pub to the street
Where I found a pound coin in the shape of tear
Which I put in a slot I had found in my ear
The street and the pub and the corpses and cars
Dissolved in a vortex of bright swirling stars
And when I came round bile stuck in my throat
I was now the theme music of murder she wrote.
As I sang an old woman typed at a type writer
Telling the tales of this old-aged crime fighter
Angela Lansbury, pensioner and grandma
A stupid old woman with dellusions of grandeur
Melody and chorus came to and end
With an almighty verse that was sure to offend
My lyrics were swearing about paedo perversion
The punters were shocked! What a cunning diversion
When no one was looking I leapt on my steed
Whilst angela's war wounds all started to bleed
From them poured tango of multiple flavours
And all kinds of snacks from malteesers to quavers
This writer and actor bled pure entertainment...
While I flew in the sky filled with derangement
My senses now filled with a gay abstract chorus
I flew on my steed the ground layed out before us.
My steed was an old crispy packet I'd found
Alone and all weepy, picked from the ground
By my healing, golden, benevolent hands
Now forced to constantly travel the land
The tango and quavers and multilpe snacks
Were gaining quite fast, they were right on our backs!!
When all of a sudden I started to laugh
I chuckled and gibbered and giggled and gasped
The snacks were confused and scratched at their scalps
Well would of, but heads it seems they were without
And hands in fact neither these snacks did possess
But they stood there confused and scratched none the less
I looked at them stern, I stared hard and long
And said "My dear snacks. What do you stand on?"
Panic the felt and then fear and then pain
They fell to their deaths and I set off again...
I stared at the sun til my retinas burned
Then screamed at my steed who started to gurn
I pull down my pants, to my steed's frantic shock
I paint him a picture with the end of my cock
The picture is better than any ive seen
I've rendered a perfect cock painted queen
Mary Queen of scots stares at me back
And the audience around me rythmically claps
An audience ? Where ? And then how ? And then Who ?
The sound of the clapping it grew and it grew
A tumultuous roar like the screaming of goats
I turned to sea miles and miles of throats.
With two tiny arms but then hands of such size
At the end of them I nearly shat in surprise
As the clapping continued, I soon realised
They were after my crispies my strange flying prize
"We want all your crispies" the larynxs cheered
But just then the fly/Brian blessed appeared
"My god!!! Its you Brian! Tell me how do you do it!!"
Brian laughed at a snivelling throat and then blew it..
..Away with the lasers he keeps in his cheeks
Another throat mumbled, he bellowed "IT SPEAKS!!"
"AND WHAT DOES IT SAY? THIS STRANGE MUTATED CREATURE!!"
"We will kill you now blessed" "kill you then eat ya"
