nytt blod-dbuggen

Hoggide boo woggide stu

Martin Hyberg

Boogide woo woggide ho. Watch me crank here is frank and his buddy hank. Frank is flick and hank is sick, come here and suck my . Revitalize your eyes with the guys from the skies. Drink wines stink rhymes and grim crimes. Hop till you stop and drop in to jail, you a bad sob you will always fail. While in, tell Frank he’s queer and hope hank not there, cause he’ll sin and send you to the bin. Couldn’t tell you from a horse in the mince you’re stuffing. Don’t trick, he knows you’re bluffing. Frank is slick, he always cuffing. You can’t run away, you’re there to stay, you’ll turn grey behind the locks. Watch the red sox laying in your bed on your box wearing nothing but crocs. No window no skies, no way to revitalize your eyes. Only your hole is the shitter, don’t be bitter, look down, you got friends there too. Bit redder and a little bit hotter than you. Prolly wont feel better when you walk to the slaughter. But when you’re done, you can join the guys in the skies. You’ve lived like a nun so that’s your prize. Watch me crank from your heavenly bunk. Walking zig zag cause I’m a little bit drunk. Drinking from a big bag. End up in a body bag. Look up, look there, no wonder you’re here. Flying like a commercial airliner and you’ll end up like grimer. Lufthansa up there turning back and forth, bonanza is not turning north. Squeeze and pull, and you can eat grease til you’re full. Watch it drip of you, this is no place to eat stew. Live young, ride fast, die having a blast.
But now there is no point to keep going, you’ll end up in the joint underneath a boeing.