William Blake and Cthulhu make out on my couch

Methamphetamine roars through my veins

I am feeding your body to Oscar the Grouch

So that nobody finds your remains

Your guts are a wig and your skin is a dress

“Look at me, check it out: I’m Marge Simpson!”

William Blake laughs so hard he can barely undress

For the three-way with Hillary Clinton

Oscar opens up wide and devours you whole

Then he burps, because grouches are rude,

And I say a quick prayer to the saints for your soul

‘Cause I’m such a compassionate dude

We shall have you a funeral with a cross and a priest

Or whatever junk your religion espouses

Oscar’s cousin the Grinch can carve up some roast beast

And leave crumbs much too small for our mouses

Y’all can keep all your candles and Meg Ryan flicks

And small portions of food I despise

There’s nothing so magical, merry and rich

As an evening of fun with the guys