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Mr. Punch Lyrics

Everybody gets it sometime, sorry.
Virus, fire, gryoscope, lear jet, lorry.
Choking on a chicken bone lurking in lunch;
And you're dead, dead, dead!
But not Mr. Punch

That Mr. Punch, he's a rum one, ain't he?
Strapping as his yapping little wife is dainty
Hit her with a big stick, give her what for
And she's dead, dead, dead
On the crimson floor
(repeat)

In the real world, all effects are casual
Amble backstage, see the sticks and swozzle
Talk to the Professor of the tricks of his trade
Ask him for his flask, it's only lemonade...

But,
Here comes a Crocodile, here comes Clootie
Hear the Beadle wheedle, and the ghost of Judy
Rattling her ribs in rodomontade
They're all dead, dead, dead
In the old arcade
(repeat)
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Cover art for Mr. Punch lyrics by Future Bible Heroes

Rodomontade, according to Dictionary.com, is "vainglorious boasting or bragging; pretentious, blustering talk."

Cover art for Mr. Punch lyrics by Future Bible Heroes

such a fun song, and perfectly fitting the grim topic so oftenplyed for laughs, as in the Neil Gaiman work the song is based on. Wonderful.

Cover art for Mr. Punch lyrics by Future Bible Heroes

If you've never read "The Tragical Comedy or Comical Tragedy of Mr. Punch", the Neil Gaiman graphic novel this song is based on, this is 100% on brand. All the love!

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