How Would You Like To Be Murdered?
by danielguy
Posted: 20 June 2003 Word Count: 248 |
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How Would You Like To Be Murdered?
How would you like to be murdered?
Have you thought about it at all?
Would you care to be hacked to death in a bath
Gunned down in shopping mall?
Or is poison a little more your cup of tea
Would you like to be stabbed in the back?
Or crushed to death in a garbage truck
Inside a black plastic sack?
How would I like to be murdered?
Well I’ve thought about it a lot
The very idea of being snuffed out
Makes me wonderfully horny and hot.
I’d love to be lynched by a Nazi mob
Strung up by the neck till I come
Or chained to a bed and smothered to death
Beneath a Mistress’s bum.
But who wants to be eaten by crocodiles
Or die making love to their aunt?
Who could think that arousing?
I, for the life of me, can’t
But holding a gun will make a man hard
So it’s all just a matter of taste
Should death be the sexiest thing that we do?
It’s always a shame to waste.
Some yearn to be horribly, tragically killed
Others might not be so keen
Like an innocent child who steps on a mine
And is blown to a smithereen
Yet all of us pleasure ourselves with the dream
Of a wake, and the tears that are shed
By our selfish, remorseful, dearest of friends
As we lie in our coffins; dead.
Daniel Guy
06/03
How would you like to be murdered?
Have you thought about it at all?
Would you care to be hacked to death in a bath
Gunned down in shopping mall?
Or is poison a little more your cup of tea
Would you like to be stabbed in the back?
Or crushed to death in a garbage truck
Inside a black plastic sack?
How would I like to be murdered?
Well I’ve thought about it a lot
The very idea of being snuffed out
Makes me wonderfully horny and hot.
I’d love to be lynched by a Nazi mob
Strung up by the neck till I come
Or chained to a bed and smothered to death
Beneath a Mistress’s bum.
But who wants to be eaten by crocodiles
Or die making love to their aunt?
Who could think that arousing?
I, for the life of me, can’t
But holding a gun will make a man hard
So it’s all just a matter of taste
Should death be the sexiest thing that we do?
It’s always a shame to waste.
Some yearn to be horribly, tragically killed
Others might not be so keen
Like an innocent child who steps on a mine
And is blown to a smithereen
Yet all of us pleasure ourselves with the dream
Of a wake, and the tears that are shed
By our selfish, remorseful, dearest of friends
As we lie in our coffins; dead.
Daniel Guy
06/03
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