Now Stay Down You Undead M*************

A crooked jaw
grub infested teeth
Standing tall
like Solomon Grundy

A swing of my bat
an epic home run
A taunting laugh
looks like he ain't done

No problem
I can do this all week
A few chords on a banjo
and then smashed into a cheek

He just can't get enough
no worries, a shovel is up
A swing here, a swing there
then an epic uppercut

He must enjoy this
A sledge hammer in hand
I take a good swing
A hit lands on the forehead

There is that piano smile
He gets up yet again
Now I have some good stuff
for my smelling friend

I stab with a knife
right into his nose
Did I reach the brain?
Does he have one, who knows?

That's it, I am getting mad
Perhaps a nine mil
will finally do the job
I shot to kill

I whole mag gone
wasted in his skull
But his contract to stay dead
is void and null

An ax should do the job
I swing through the neck
Snapping the spinal column
not knowing whats next

He crawls back up
head in a hand
I have no choice but to run
having wasted my last stand