Revenge Of The Mullet

Something about his name
Demands the definite article

Eighties flair and light brown hair cascading
From his skull

The day that he moved next door
I knew I had to pack up and go

His dad and he had been after me me, but how was I to know?

When he burst into my room
The bathroom floor was a plane-wreck
It really wasn't my fault
But he didn't fact-check

He chased me out of my place
Wielding his replica broadsword
The shower curtain was fake
It was made of cardboard

Sunday
Take a walk in the park;
Monday
Sit alone in the dark
If he sees me
I know he will eat me

And now I'm never alone
No no
I never pick up my phone calls
I know wherever I go the mullet
Will have his revenge on a sweet go

Somethings about his way
Suggests a man who won't be
Outfoxed
Swagger wide and
Smile snide
American dreadlocks

God couldn't clear my name
And if he could he don't wanna hear
Not one question, never rest
Enthusiastic fear

In battle he disappears
And re-appears like a ninja
His flowing back-level beard
Blowing in the winda-a!

He isn't racist at all
He wants it separate but equal
Thinks people just get along
Within their own people

You may
Lose your way in the park
You may
Bump your head in the dark

You make sense
But
I'm lost in a
Haircut

And now I'm never alone
No no
I never pick up my phone calls
I know wherever I go the mullet
Will have his revenge on a sweet go