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My wee town is perfect, well just a blemish here and there
There’s one or two wee niggles, if I’m going to be fair
The place itself is lovely, the best and finest in the land
It’s all the folk who live here, well: it’s them I cannot stand

There’s not a single one of them I haven’t had to wrangle
So I’ve decided on a deadly quest, of population mangle
A few will need to die, of course, as I manifest my fury
But I’ll be fair, as fair can be, as I play their judge and jury

Mr Jones, that cruel, cruel man, always shouting at my daughter
That awful man has earned himself an invite to the slaughter
And Mrs Jones, his nosey wife, always twitching at the curtains
I’ll leave her twitching on the floor, and her carpet full of blood stains

Mrs Smith, who gives those looks, well bang, she made the list
When I get my chance, to make her die, I’ll be creative, add a twist
She’ll see me in a different light, and it’s sure to be her last sight
She’s very old and very frail, so I’ll kill her in a street fight

My neighbours are quite noisy so I’ll have to kill them too
They’re all a bunch of animals, my next door human zoo
It’s time for me to talk to them and dispense a little violence
I’m sure to get the last word in and ensure eternal silence

And when the killing’s over and there’s no one left to kill
When all the screaming dies away: and all is deathly still
Know you’re really welcome here, hell, bring the bleedin’ wife
My idea of paradise, which I’ve carved out with a knife