The Fineribber (The Dead)

Testicles want to break free As I'm raisin' the remote control Scratchin' my belly's hair As my dick pees outa my pant's hole Zapping through my real life The legion of empty bottles grows and grows I'm the king of "Shooter"-underwear The Fineribber's upon his throne! All hail to my balls and the TV-program My fine-ribbing armour, the beer in my hand No finerib, no glory! The sofa's my throne I'm the king of the khakis and the finerib's my crown! Wankin' through phone-sex-commercials During the movie-breaks I beat my spouse Devotedly she fetches one more beer for me with a bleeding nose Enjoying the "Superbowl" 12 Pretzels fitting in my hand This tricky salty dozen lead into my kingdom's end All hail to my balls and the TV-program... A fart breaks the silence A honk in the dark The sphincter quits its job As my empire falls The king is dying on the floor like his souls shall not be (p)raised The fineribber won't ever raise his pissed flag nevermore!