The echo is honestly amazing and adds so much to the song

Well the winter snow’s-a-fallin and you know your friends are all expecting
gifts oh so unique
And you really better nail it, cause you know that you’ll have failed em if
They’re not knocked off their feet 

You can get em comfy slippers, seasons tickets to the Clippers
A kazoo for playin jolly little tunes
Some nova lox or wooly socks, fancy chocolates in a box
A funny shirt they’ll prolly throw away by June

But if you wanna get em something cool and hip and new
PSST
Give their ass a mummified
Give their ass a mummified
Give their ass a mummified goose!

Can you imagine how they’ll clap
After they tear away the wrapping
And lay eyes upon an ancient dusty bird

Some hollow bones, their very own
to grace a mantle in their home
If I might say, pretty impressively preserved

So listen, hey, this holiday,
I’m not sure what else I can say
But if you really wanna throw em for a loop

You find a goose that went kaputt
Ya wrap it up from beak to foot
And you give their ass a mummified
Give their ass a mummified
Give their ass a mummified
GOOSE
(honk)

Mummified Goose

Livin in France
Out in le country
A little more limited menu than you see in Paris

Got no filet mignon
Got no boeuf bourguignon
No bouillabaisse or creme brûlée or charcuterie

Ahh but when the pangs of hunger
howling in the gut grow stronger
Fangs come out and then I long to
MUNCH ON THE TERRIFIED FRENCH

French HEADS, I’m eatin’ em nightly
Bon apetite mon frère, no need to heat I’ll eat ‘em rare

French HEADS, season ‘em lightly
A bordelaise for Claire, a pinch of pepper on Pierre

HOWLS

Call me beast
Call me a monster
Just don’t call me late when a tasty young shepherd’s in the meadow alone

Go on and shame me
Ah but ya made me
It’s whatcha get when you’re hangin with a wolf in the quiet low valleys of the ecotone

Ahhh I realize it’s reckless
But this wolfy’s feeling peckish
If you don’t protect your neck it’s
CHOMP CHOMP AU REVOIR! Ha ha ha ha

French heads, they’re oh so yummy
Paprika dusted on Denis, a side of skewered Genevieve

French heads, in my tummy
As for below the neck, no thanks
I’m good
I’ll take the check PLEASE

French Heads

Equestria Girls: Better Together

Five to Nine

Hey!
Are you tired of bein' sad?
Wish you had more than you have?
You get the notion everybody else
Is keepin' secrets from ya and you got a hunch that they’ve all found a way

Some kinda universal key
How can you possibly compete?
Well lemme tell you something that’ll help
Just open up that notes app and jot down exactly what I’m bout to say

And keep in mind I’m nothin more than
A chest of anthropomorphic
Gold and I do not possess a brain

Just be the richest man in the world
And watch your problems disappear
And you won’t need nobody
Let the gold wipe away your tears

And if you’re askin me
"How doooooo I do that?"
Uh, well, I don’t know

But if my man Mansu Musa
Can acquire that much boodle
Then it seems to be attainable
If you apply your noodle
Have you thought of trading Funko Pops
Or smugglin precious jewels
Or you could just be a piece of shit
And steal a golden stool

Idk, you’ll figure it out

Just be the richest man in the world
Make sure you’re never satisfied
Spend all your days n night
Chasin that money until you die

(Just Be) The Richest Man In The World

Here left to lurch
Twixt two lovely swaying birch
Trees: Igor of Kiev
Husband to a wife
Who would face near any strife
To avenge his savage death

Olga
She murdered the whole town
We frankly are surprised
She hasn’t thought to chop us down

Olga
Sainthood she attained
But to cross her is to doom yourself
To join the countless maimed

She’ll off your family, Merc your friends
She’ll hunt your cat and dog and when
You think she’s finally calling it a day
She’ll catch you when you’re unaware
Pour acid down your underwear
And laugh because she’s jokerfied that way

She’ll lop your toes into a jar
And pack it up and mail it far
And on your grandma’s birthday she will find
A bloody box addressed to her
Containing nothing less than your
Ten piggies and she’ll lose her god damn mind

Olga
She may be a saint
But rightly pissed to see her sweetie
Split right up the taint

Olga
Legit she’s got no chill
Piss her off if you’d like
To experience being killed

She’ll simply make you poop your pants
That’s right she’ll make you poop your pants
And if you’re think that you won’t poop your pants
Just wait because you’ll poop your pants
Because she’ll make you poop your pants
And kill you once you’ve pooped your poopy pants

You’ll hear a knocking at the door
And when you ask who’s there to your
Relief it’s just your neighbor Joan Calhoun
You open up
IT’S OLGA! FUCK!
She’ll kick your shins and punch your nuts
Then skin you while she sings a happy tune

She’ll slit your throat like that one scene
In Gone Girl, know the one I mean
Where NPH is-- well, you get the gist
If it’s not clear the message here
Is if you hold existence dear
Make sure you don’t end up on Olga’s list

(Just Be) The Richest Man In The World

Puppet History

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