The Freaking Misfits Ball
When all the freaks have gathered at the far end of the hall
The under short, the way-too-fat, the very thin and over tall
A chime shall ring, that crystal thing, to start the Freaking Misfits' Ball.
We'll jump and shout and run and yell
Until the next ring of that bell
When all must stop and sniff the smell
Of Satan rising up from Hell.
"YO!" he always cries at first
"GIMME A BEER TO QUENCH MY THIRST!"
Upon which note a freak will burst
Forth from the crowd of kindred cursed
And boldly stride up to His naugahide throne
And toss old Satan a mighty big bone
Which Satan will reject without even a groan
And turn the young misfit right into stone
Some freaks will then gasp and some will cheer
Until one who's been around for many a year
Will call above the din in a voice loud and clear
"YOU STUPID OLD BUGGER! GET YOUR OWN FUCKING BEER!"
A hush, a rustle, a drop of a pin
Then a chuckle will leak out from the master of sin
"WHICH OF YOU MISFITS HAS BALLS MADE OF TIN?
IF YOU BRING ME A BEER THEN I'LL MIX UP SOME GIN!"
From out of the pocket he wears on his chest
the elderly misfit will pull out Adolf's best
Then he'll point it at Satan, ignoring the rest
And pull off the pop-top with gusto and zest
"DRINK THIS YOU BASTARD AND BOTHER US NO MORE!"
He'll yell at the devil as he stomps on the floor
"YOUR GIN ISN'T REAL, IT'S LIKE PUSS FROM A SORE
ON THE VAGINAL LIPS OF YOUR UGLIEST WHORE!"
Then Satan will grin right from ear to ear
"ALL RIGHT," he will say, "THEN I'LL SEE YOU NEXT YEAR"
With a flash from his eyes then he shall disappear
And the freaks will continue the ball with good cheer
Until later that night
When the bell rings at four
and the horrible sight
Of drunk freaks on the floor
Will scare the wits right out of the light
That knocks in the morning upon the front door
Then with a BANG! POP! SMASH!....
The freaking misfits