Verse a
Bug bites and brambles,
they do not mix.
If you gonna hit that ditch,
you better hit that ditch.
Verse B
When I was young, I got my licks.
Now I’m strong and I, I takes my pick.
Verse c
I’ve been nine and
I’ve been six.
When that god-dang script flipped,
you know I shit bricks.
verse d
Doggone dog, don’t you get sick.
If you go, I’ll feel that blow.
Cut to the quick.
Verse E
Be wyrd even though
fate is fickle.
Be the brine, if you find,
you’re in a pickle.
Verse F
When I let go, I get my kicks.
If you go see me show,
you better buy some ticks.
Verse G
Like a jester with sleeves,
I play my tricks.
Burn that midnight oil and a couple,
a couple thousand wicks.
Verse H
Some call me Mike and some call me Mick.
If you won’t be a Richard,
then go be a Dick.
Verse I
I’ve been wounded,
and I’ve been nicked.
Some will gore you like a boar;
some prick like a tick.