Oh my god, oh my god
He just shot him in the mother----ing head

Oh yea, oh yea
Oh yea, I said oh yea

"I have no free will," I sang
As I flew about the murder
Mrs. Richard Holmes, she screamed
Well you really should have heard her

I sang and I laughed, I howled and I wept
I panted and I squealed
I blew a hole in Mrs. Richard Holmes
Who used her husband as a shield

He screamed, "You are an evil man"
And I paused a while to wonder
If I have no free will then how can I
Be morally culpable, I wonder?

I shot Richard Holmes in the stomach
I said, "It felt good to take your life"
I'm not sure, but I think he thanked me
As he lay down next to his wife

"It's nice to be nice," I replied to him
And he gave a little cough
"Yea it's nice to be nice" and I neatly aimed
And blew his head completely off

I've lived in this town for thirty years
And to no-one I am a stranger
And I put new bullets in my gun
Chamber upon chamber

When I turned my gun on the bird-like Mr. Brooks
I thought of Saint Francis and his sparrows
And as I shot down the youthful Richardson
It was Sebastian I thought of, and his arrows

Oooh mmmm ohhhh
Oh my god, oh my god
He shot him in the head

I said, "I want to introduce myself
And I'm glad that all you came"
And I leapt upon the bar
And I shouted out my name

Well Jerry Bellows, he hugged his stool
Closed his eyes and shrugged and laughed
And with an ashtray as big as a really bloody big brick
I split his skull in half

"This hurts me more than it hurts you," I said
And I sat on the bar and cryed
And for a strange moment, no-one moved or spoke
They all sat like that for awhile

"It's nice to be nice," I said again
Well it is, and that's a fact
I smiled at Henry Davenport
I think Henry Davenport smiled back

Well, from the position I was sitting
The strangest thing I ever saw
The bullet entered through the top of Henry's chest
And blew his bowels out on the floor

Well I floated down the counter
Showing no remorse
I shot a hole in Kathleen Carpenter
Recently divorced

The remorse I felt, the remorse I had
Clung to every thing
From the raven's hair upon my head
To the feathers on my wings

"Life is grand," I shouted
"But death is just the best!"
And I glided through the bodies
And killed the fat man Vincent West

Who sat quietly in his chair
A man become a child
And I raised the gun up to his head
Executioner-style

He made no attempt to resist
So fat and dull and lazy
"Did you know I live in your street?" I cried
And he looked at me as though I was crazy

"Oh," he said, "I had no idea"
He grew as quiet as a mouse
And the roar of the pistol when it went off
Near blew that roof right off the house

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