Big Fruitcake From Hell
Words & Music by Terry Scott Taylor
©2002 Shape of Air Music, BMI
Kids, you don't wanna put your lips on that
'cuz you don't know where it's been
Last year your mom sent it off to Grams
Grandma sent it back again
I think it's been about everywhere
Revealed and sealed and sent
It left destruction in its wake
'Bout everywhere it went
Oh what in the world's that green thing there?
Is that some kind of gel?
A Ginsu knife can't cut through this
And Lord! what is that smell?
I believe there's just one in the world
Yeah it's been around a spell
Your teeth'll break and you'll seal your fate
With the big fruitcake from Hell
Like a chain letter from the Devil hisself
It appears a sweet request
But take off the bows and you'll expose
A tin can filled with death
And like a mummy found tied and bound
In preservatives and such
It's orange and stale, and an old, old tale
Of ancient fruits and nuts
Oh what in the world's that green thing there?
Is that some kind of gel?
A Ginsu knife can't cut through this
And Lord! what is that smell?
I believe there's just one in the world
Yeah it's been around a spell
Your teeth'll break and you'll seal your fate
With the big fruitcake from Hell
In ancient Greece it was a discus
The old gods gave it a good fling
Then it became a doorstop in the palace of some king
Then a paperweight in old New York
'Til it was lost along the way
Showed up again- the blunt object in a murder in LA
Oh what in the world's that green thing there?
Is that some kind of gel?
A Ginsu knife can't cut through this
And Lord! what is that smell?
I believe there's just one in the world
Yeah it's been around a spell
Your teeth'll break and you'll seal your fate
With the big fruitcake from Hell
