Horrible Histories - The Monks' Song

So this Christmas
You wanna get em
Somethin sweet and sentimental

Aren’t you precious
And so thoughtful
So very nice

But lemme pitch you this
Instead of worthless shit
Maybe take the hit
And dip
Into those savings for a little
somethin priceeeeyyyyyyy

Gucci, Rolex, Tiffany
A rare illegal foreign cheese
I’ll buy you shit that’ll make you scream
Make your real life feel like a holiday dream

You want a yacht okay why not
A taxidermied ocelot
Armani, Prada, and Dior
Anything you want, I’ll wrap it up, it’s yours

This Christmas! Gonna spend every DIME
Because the finest gifts are
ONE YOU FIND ON A SHELF

This Christmas! Ain’t wasting my TIME
Tryin to read your mind and make you something myself

(Wailing)
This Christmaaaaaas!

This Christmaaaaaas!

Love on a Shelf

Blackbeard

A stone’s throw west of nowhere
They've got a golden crop they tend to grow there
Well it’s the sweetest treat
a six foot bird could ever eat
We’ll risk our necks
For a couple more pecks
Of your worthless wheat

Put up a fence and try to keep us out
We’ll plow right through it with balletic leaps and bounds
There’s no defense you’re raisin'
That’ll stop us from our grazin'
There's piles of wheat for
Em-you and me!

No pain, no grain
That’s the name of the game
We choose to chew
That’s how emu do
We snack, they attack
We run away then come right back
Try to kill me I dare you
Do it
DO IT

Shoot us,
Pursue us,
You can drive a truck right through us!
Riddle us with bullets
As we stuff our skinny gullets
Pop a slug right in my skull!
But not until my belly’s full
Kill my family, merc my friends
But the buffet will never end

And I commend you blokes for tryin'
But we simply have no fear of dyin’
It’s agricultural plunder
Until we’re six feet down under

One more time for all our dead rotting friends!

Shoot us,
Pursue us,
You can drive a truck right through us,
(No pain, no grain!)
Pump us full of lead
But make sure you aim for our wobbly heads
(We choose to chew)
There's pile of wheat for em-yooou and me!

Six Feet Down Under

Wakin up in the mornin
Drag your ass on outta the bed
Got a little somethin somethin
A-thump a-thumpin up in your head
Your ass is all clammy
Spots poppin up a freaky color of red
Catch yourself in the mirror
Lookin only slightly better than dead

You vomit, brush your teeth
And then you vomit once more
Then drain all of the fluid
From your freshly sprouted sores
Thermometer is tellin you
One hundred and four (THAT'S HOT!)
My dude you’re on your way
To rap-a-tap-a-tappin at death’s door

You got the pox!
Uh oh! Oh no no no
Not sure how best to console ya
But ya got the variola 
And you’ll probably die
But hey
On the bright side
You got a couple new friends
Who will be with you til the end
Count on us 
Scabs n pus

People can go viral 
In a myriad of ways
Unboxing vids, getting kicked in the nuts
Or tweetin shitty takes
But you picked the one that’ll leave you dead in 
Seven to seventeen days
Tis the reason for your lesions
And excruciating pains

You got the pox!
Whoops, yep you do— 
And if you think you’ve had enough then
Just wait til those blisters slough and
Sure you’ll probably die
But hey
On the bright side
You got a couple new friends
Who will be with you til the end
Count on us 
Scabs n pus
Look at us
Scabs n pus

You Got The Pox!

Window Song - Puppet History Season 5

Hippodrome Song - Puppet History Season 6

Country Album Version. Vocals and music generated by AI but I 100% write my own songs, handle all composition, production and post production for my music.  By around the end of October-November of this year(2025) I will be getting the equipment I need to record my own quality vocals and then voice clone them and have AI train my vocal clone.  If that is successful my plan is to voice swap my cloned vocals with the AI vocals on some or all of my tracks listed as 'Album Version'

You Never Know(Country Album Version)

Third exit to nowhere

Horrible Histories - Patchacuti

Choo choo
I'm a train!
Choo choo
This is the song I sing!
Choo choo
All abooooooard!

Y’know it sucks to be a train
Luggin' normie losers through the cold and the rain
Same path, same track, same route
The monotony’s enough to make a choo choo POUT!

But then one day you catch a break
Gonna take a VIP to the Old Line State
Uh, who me? Yes you. But who?
Well I’ll tell you who-
The soon-to-be president of the
UUUUUUnited states.
They call him honest Abe.
He’s got a funny little beard
And he’s lanky and weird
But he sure knows just the words to say

But then some racist dipshits	
Took out a hit and chose to sit and wait-
For the man they call Abe
And robbed this lonely locomotive of a real exciting day

And then all of my choo choos
Turned into nothin but boohoos!

Boo hoo
Choo
Choo choo
Boo choo hoo hoo
Boo Hoo!
Choo boo hoo
Boo hoo hoo
Choo choo hoo
Boo hoo
Choo choo

Chugga Chugga Boo Hoo

Puppet History