I say fuck the fucks, eat the ducks,
The chickens are already gore.
Fuck you all, for all you've not done,
The snake gets to even out the score.
And then my ghost wearing that boot,
I'll come with a swagger in style.
Then I'll press those nails you see,
Right on your face with a smile.
Fuck you all, assholes and bitches,
I hope you die a bloody stew.
Let my spirit haunt your bastards alive,
And make sure that they die too.
No one's off the hook, until the guilty cook,
In hot oil with garam masala mix.
I'll spare no end, call my ghost friends,
For a night of gourmet dishes six.
The envious kin, glowing green their skin,
Now on a plate with cabbage roll.
They look serene and placid,
In the past they've fucked my asshole.
The eye-balls gouged out, sans clout,
Their balls served separately on a tray.
As a spirit I enjoy fermentation,
My blood collection will be on display.
Every single fuck and what they did to me,
Their crime in sordid detail read.
Then the feast will start, bless my heart,
I'm glad I am finally fucking dead
