Greenland Spikes the Punch

What's the real need to be shaven and Epeed?

Jesus lost his Quattro so I bet he's hairy up in heaven

Schick ads probably show up to the bottom and the right

In the space that is now the place for adverts and disgrace

If Cassius Clay were on EP today I wonder if he would fight

Misinformed, Dis-informed, Ill-Prepared and simply cacophonic

I've got a hunch about the punch but I'll worry after lunch

I shaved with my Elvis face on and now I'm in need of a septic stick

I've got a whittle turkey and it sits on top of my green acre

She's a special type, she chats on Skype, she is perpetually ripe

I tried to separate her from her perch if only so I could bake her

Then I think, "oh no, what would my lucky duck think of my actions?"

He's always staring, glaring and without a singular doubt declaring,

"You, good sir, should not act or you will face a grim and direct reaction."

I turned the duck around and made a sandwich of turkey and mallard

I used Miracle Whip, It's got that zip and if I can I'll give you a tip

Don't eat meat that belongs to decor or it will call you a grim bastard

I stood and sat in front of a church and waited in line for my salvation

There was a beardless man, he said he was a fan but I didn't like his tan

Another came by, shouted "Jesus Shaves," and I said "Man, since when?"

"It's me, it's me, let's hit the Autobahn and purify your essence!"

He produced an ID and a bible book and said, "It's me, Look!"

"That all sounds good and I have sinned but I took a shower since."

Last I heard from Jesus he was trying to add me as a friend on my Myspace

He'd write on my wall and track down my friends and add them all

Maybe he's cool to party with but I can't trust a messiah with a shaven face

Since then I've been trying to play it safe and all my bets I hedge

I don't eat red meat, I clean my feet and always wash my sheets

I just can't keep up like Jesus and Bono, always so close to The Edge