‘Twas the week before Glee Nationals and all through McKinley
Shrill pubescent voices were making my ears bleed
Sounding like rejects off American Idol
I couldn’t help but feel just a little homicidal
The children were brutalizing more classic rock ballads
While delusions of stardom danced in their heads
Their excitement was filling my mouth up with vomit
They needed to be stopped and I had to get on it
I’d lied and I’d blackmailed, assaulted and cheated
But all my plans to destroy them had so far been defeated
Why were they so resilient to my campaign of terror?
What would it take to ruin Glee Club forever?
No comments:
Post a Comment