She played for the angels
I played for the tribe
The summer had been stolen
and the bases were all loaded
There was big my arm a line
Big my all the time, yeah
There was big my arm a line
I was in the kitchen
The year was in the fall
A friend of mine had told me
that there where no point in mopin'
No there were no point at all
There was big fire in the hall, yeah
There weren't no points at all
And I heard that his brother was a viking
He liked to solve a problem with a gun
If you want to know the facts
you gotta teach him how to act
And I hate cough syrup don't you
I'd rather be a sailor than a fighter
I'd like to sail a ship into the sun
If you want to know the truth
you gotta dig up Johnny Boon
And I hate cough syrup don't you
I know that your mother is a farter
I heard she's got connections with the mob
If you want to learn the fight
you gotta drink up all the light
And I hate cough syrup don't you
I'd rather be a matchstick than a lighter
I'd like to see the wood curl up and burn
If you want to touch the sky
you must be prepared to die
And I hate cough syrup don't you
I hate cough syrup
and I hate the food in Europe
And I hate cough syrup it's true
You wanna know the truth
you gotta dig up Johnny Boof
And I hate cough syrup don't you
I hate cough syrup it's true