The French
Kate & Mike

Part 3



Mike:   Come on then, you fuck-wit whore,
If you think you're hard enough.
I'll show you that all your words
Are just a load of parp and guff.
Plague me not with empty threats
Of deeds you can't deliver.
You're nothing but an arsey cow
And sure don't make me quiver.

So, come to London, I'll not hide.
I'll not run or cower.
I'll slap you like a stupid bitch,
You got that right? Eh, flower?
Let you get your mits out
You'll soon see that you are wrong.
I'll simply throw back out on
The streets where you belong

Kate:   Oh hark at thee! You think I'm scared?
You think I'll quake and quiver?
You're nothing but a giblet, Mike,
All spleen and lily liver.
You threaten me with words so tough
But I know what is right.
You're weedier than Lionel Blair
And softer than his shite.

It makes me laugh to think of how
YOU could beat me in a scrap.
The weapons you might use on me,
I'm sure they would be crap.
You'd play some metal really loud
Or read me Terry Pratchett,
And in the meantime, I would kill
You with a fuck-off hatchet.

You'd whack me with the wizard's wand
You use for D&D,
Or make me watch god awful stuff
Like Star Trek T.N.G.
You'd bore me with computers,
But I would just not care,
Because I'm hard as houses
And I just will not fight fair.

And while you're busy 'fighting',
I will just stand back and giggle,
Until you're sad and crying,
All dripping wet with dribble,
And begging "Please don't hit me,
I can't take any more!"
And maybe I'd have mercy...
Nah! I'd punch you to the floor.

Mike:   Pffft... pffffttt.... pffffftttt......
Har har har har haaarrrrr
Oh dearie lawd, don't make me laugh
You're too absurd by far.
Oh hee hee heee... it's true to say
A tear is in my eye.
My paroxyms of chuckles
Are just bound to make me cry.

Ohhhh ho ho ho ho, ho ho ho
Yeah, sure I'm on the floor.
I can't get up - I'm crippled
By the mightiest guffaw.
Stoppit! Stoppit! Please, I beg,
I can't cope with your humour.
I've laughed so much I think I might
Just go and burst a tumour.

Excuse me just a minute please
While I catch my breath.
I wonder if you're going to try
Shopping me to death.
I'm sorry, Kate, it's just the thought
Of you defeating me.
Or perhaps you've got some hideous
Deadly recipe.

Or are you going to try and eat
A cheese sandwich at me?
Oh no, you've set me off again
Hee hee hee hee heeeee.
Ohhh, mercy me... can't take no more...
You're driving me quite mental.
I'd have a harder time if I'd
To fight against a lentil.

 
The French
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