"Ooo, I like this toy. Watch it go. Uw...wait!" [gunshots]



"We're sorry the person you are calling is dead"





I was like six, I used to get dissed by the chicks

And everyone would chase me and hit me with bricks

And rocks and sticks and calling me names

And fill my lunchbox with frogbrains (eeww!)

When I left school, it was much iller

My daddy was a serial killer

And how about that, he always make me sit in the back

With all his dead bodies on my lap (move!)

When I got home, enough of the static

Hammer and tools, went up to the attic

Never knew any other girls or boys

Only my toys, toys, toys

Bang! Clang! Hammer and twist

Nobody knows I exist, and I'm pissed

But I won't be mentally scarred

Instead I make toys, toys of the graveyard

Monday, ringing the bell

It's all about show and tell, might as well

Show all these bastards just what I got

Yo, check out my toy box!



"Nothing feels better than a good harty-harr, right boys and girls"



We got dead bodies everywhere you look

All the nerds sitting up front got cooked

Others start screaming and making a dash

So I start handing out toys fast at last

You like slinkies, we got slinkies

Only mine like to wrap around your face

And stretch, twist, kazoom!

And whip your body all over the fuckin room

So come, one at a time

Open your gift and what you will find

Is a toy, my friend, that you'll never forget

It's not everyday that you get your skull split

You like soldiers, we got soldiers

Made with rubber and steel, they look real

But I wouldn't just toss em under your bed

That's how you get an axe to the forehead (oww)

And don't let em sit around all day

Come home and find you mom, dead in the hallway

Cuz they can be nifty

All the toys are shifty, hehe, in my toy box



"Woooowee! that sure sounds like fun!"





That's not a toy, hey, wait a minute

Don't fuck around, homie, you can lose an eye with it

That's my double blade razor whip chop jimmy

And it's mine, motherfucker, so gimme gimme

You want toys, you come to the right place

Try my little toy, Mutilating Mental Case

Wind him up, let him go among all of ya

Then BANG! serial slaughterer

Your turn, reach in and get lucky

Oh look, he pulled out a rubber ducky

It make a funny sound and then bitch BANG!

Blew the fingers off his fuckin hand

Don't stop, class ain't done yet

I remember you calling me poindexter

Bookworm brainy, my aggrevation

Went into these little creations

Reach in, you might find something wicked

Wicked, scary, chop bang pickadery

Off with your head, a robot with a sword

But now he's looking at me, but what for?

"Eh, wait a minute, I made you

Get them, not me. Eh, wait a minute, motherfucker."

"Oh, I love this record."

turn it off! (repeat until fades)



entrance to next song...



Tommy why? Why do you feel like you should still be with Lisa?



Sure c'c'c'c'mon man our relationship ain't all weak and shit you know? I mean, I mean just because she's dead we should break up or something FUCK THAT!



Tommy, Tommy, Tommy listen to me she's dead man you gotta move on



So what, so she's dead, does that make you fresher than her?



I didnt say that



I dont think so, so she son't talk as much or maybe she really don't move around alot she's still fresh! She's still fun to be around...

hehe yeah! I know your just prejudice, your prejudice against dead people.



Aw man you really are one sick bastard Tommy!



Yeah, F'ck Off!

What?

F'ck Off?

What the fuck? What does that mean?

It means FUCK OFF!

Man you fuckin lost it!

Yeah F'ck off!