Got a Whac-a-mole headache, pounds like a sieve
Guacamole hitch-hike, somethings gotta give
Katipo spider ready to pounce
A Kakapo spied her and took her out
Heck of a thing to explain to a child
What a whac-a-mole headache is, it kills me inside
And every day it gets worse and worse
Some call it a blessing – I call it a curse
He left in a pine box, he left in a hearse
He left in a boxcar, dirt-laden with dirt
Conditions so filthy Bin Laden would curse
Stinks to high heaven like Damien Hirst
