| He crushes ants just for fun
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| And if you need a friend he is not the one
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| He came and he saw and we fled
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| His mere presence will fill us with dread
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| His beginning is our end
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| He’s a terrible blend of disaster and malaise
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| If you ask he won’t care
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| He finds joy in despair
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| He’s bad in a myriad of ways
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| If you’re feeling blue
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| Oh Bob may come to you
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| He don’t care if you’re down or you’re lost
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| And if you’re feeling low
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| Bob’s house is where to go
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| He don’t care if you weep or you sob
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| And that’s the only good thing about Bad Bob
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| His frown is the size of the moon
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| And he has no heart, no song, no tune
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| His smile has never been seen
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| He’s the dictionary definition of mean
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| He says the wrong words and even the birds
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| Are dismayed by his gaze
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| He could scatter a crowd
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| Not even his mum is that proud
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| He’s bad in a myriad of ways
|
| And if you’ve lost your heart
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| Bob is the place to start
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| He don’t care if you’re down or you’re lost
|
| But if you’re feeling low
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| Bob’s house is a place to go
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| He don’t care if you weep or you sob
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| And that’s the only good thing about Bad Bob |