Bring Me The Head Of Paul McCartney On Heather Mill's Wooden Peg (Dropping Bombs On The White House)

Oh man, it's dropping out of heaven and it's bringing the word
 The wicked fucking sound that you never have heard
 I'll tell you all about it 'cause it's spoken to me
 It damn near took my life and kicked the shit out of me, you see?
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 Now it walks with my soul and it lives with my mind
 And it's got a big gun and it's hunting mankind
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 Shiny leather boots and a big set of wings
 Many fucking presents for the children it brings
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 Flying through the heavens and it's made out of stars
 It's walking on fire to the place that you are
 Here it comes
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 So grab your silver bullets and sharpen your stakes
 And lock your fucking doors for Jesus sakes
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 Because it's reading your mind and it's ruined this land
 And it's speaking in German and things you don't understand
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 While it's fucking your girlfriend and it's flying in space
 And it's putting you to shame as it spits in your face
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 Then it flies back to Heaven and it sleeps with the stars
 And it's eating up planets and it's playing guitar
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 In fact it's playing right now