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

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