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

En garde



Lyrics submitted by DeltaTheNoob

Neopolitan song meanings
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