Chorus: O whacking day, o whacking day,
Our hallowed snake-skull cracking day.
Soprano: We’ll break their backs,
Gouge out their eyes,
Their evil hearts,
We’ll pulverise.
Chorus: O whacking day, o whacking day,
May God bestow His grace on thee.
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His shorts only look small because the grass is sloping, its obviously an optical illusion
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He has grass in his pants.
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That’s where I kept mine back in the day.
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I’ll take the Sheil look over my current situation anyday.
Genuinely don’t know how his ■■■■ isn’t flopping out of those shorts.
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