His Ducati can outgun Apollo and Zeus
He can rope in an ox with a lasso and noose
He sings as he captures more slaves for his ranks
He's defeated the best of investment—type banks
No man, woman, child, and/or animal smiles
When they see all his treasure and currency piles
He's a murdering pirate and ninja combined
With a Viking's brute strength and a lightning—fast mind
Just to make sure his fear and respect builds a wall
He wipes out whole species, endangered and all
And even the eagles must carry him food
Or he'll eat them alive just to lighten his mood
He hammers in nails using just his bare hands
He eats broken glass and then spits out white sands
He hates Izzy's restaurant and shunned Melonhead
Now just let him build up his new deck or you're DEAD!
He's eaten whole countries, devoured the moon
His heart pumps out iron, his yell a monsoon
He can drink gasoline without stopping to think
And wash it all down with a whole—ocean drink
There is no one alive who can challenge his claim
And the last man who tried lost his legs (now he's lame)
He's a one—man machine gun, a weapon of war
And he's beat every video game's highest score
His liberal city was quite unprepared
His conservative manliness left them all scared
So he chopped off the heads of the Persian elites
"No Whining!" he said as he barbecued meats
He stands on a fighter jet made out of guns
Guns guns guns guns guns guns guns guns guns guns
Guns are so awesome and he has fifty—two
One for each state plus one in each shoe
He stands on a pile of the skulls of his foes
In the light of the glory that, yes, always flows
From the radiant muscles and tenacious yell
As he cries, "Now in Sparta——Tomorrow in Hell!"
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