When the waitress walked by - She must've caught his eye And at that moment he was mine A little slight of hand and I had poisoned his bowl of neopolitan What else can I say Man - Enjoy your ice cream
Murder is such an ugly word - Then use another if you so prefer Me - I like to call it art and art is it’s own reward Just ask Burt Ward - Years of living in the shadow of The Bat But we'll come back to that Right now let's roll this little memo out to the big boss For the next time you think I'm going soft Send some punk to try knock me off Here's a reminder - You fucking hind-grinder - With a cherry on top
That I never lost a step Message to Marcel
In my parapsychology - The ghosts they only visit me Mother – Its no bother There's a demon on this shoulder and an angel upon the other The tie always goes to the runner - Ten quatlooms on the newcomer
They always seem to remember that the art is its own reward Just ask Burt Ward Tell me he never fucking felt like capping anybody Half a lifetime spent living in the shadow of The Bat Like that has got to take its toll on you - Take control of you Until one day all you have left to show Is the only thing for sure that you have ever known The art of an obedient carefully connected rogue
I never lost a step Message to Marcel And I never rubbed the bat Message to Marcel