| Hold the presses Mikey! |
| Hot news on the wire!
|
| Hundreds see an image of a Guinness drinking choir
|
| Celebrities and cameras are headed to the scene
|
| While presidents are fleeing to their speeding limousines
|
| Don’t worry, it’s just stigmata
|
| Pass me a napkin and don’t you dare tell my mother
|
| Your local programming interrupted
|
| By the mindless banter of a soulless talking head
|
| Roll out the red carpet, dripping bloody tongue
|
| Pay no mind to blue berets and all their shiny guns
|
| Don’t worry, it’s just stigmata
|
| Pass me a napkin and don’t you dare tell my mother
|
| Who you gonna call when the man brings his hammer down?
|
| Goose stepping with a smoking Irish fly
|
| And when our world is over, children by the fire
|
| Raise their hands and pray that they may see a new Messiah
|
| And somewhere in the darkness a flag goes running by
|
| The smell of cigarettes and love are incense for the fly
|
| Don’t worry, it’s just stigmata
|
| Pass me a napkin and don’t you dare tell my mother
|
| Who you gonna call when the man brings his hammer down?
|
| Goose stepping with a smoking Irish fly |