was the night before saint Patrick's day , and all through the house there was was no beer stirring not even a pabst. Then down from the attic came such a blight , it was a snowman high as a kite. On acid and DMT and Crack he was , as he fell down the stairs he was yelling , was up blood. down the hall crashing through all that was in sight, he fell up the wall and said hell that was fucking tight when what to his wandering eye should appear...a hooker in fishnets wanting one of his beers... said " fuck you , you drifting eyed whore , give me some tokens and motha' fuck your cam show" He slapped that bitch down like a pimp ass gangsta motha fucka from the under ground. She got up with two black eyes and a blood fucking nose , and i said, look here you bread factory smelling ass cunt whore , if you wanna chat i said its gonna take tokens you fucking cunt whore slut with daddy issues he dropped down to his knees to give her raccoon eyes all full of glee as he got kicked in his tiny little dick and he danced around screaming in tears all pointed and laughed at is tiny little beans then lifted her skirt and the random ejaculate dripped down her leg , festering with bacterial ooze . the sent of chlamydia was in the air , it was the more romantic thing he had ever experienced. Her pussing herpie sores dripped yellow...... the bloodest of puss, amanda bitchassqunt dropped to her knees and licked up her own tears, then screamed out full of glee shes a cunt shes a cunt shes a cunt ...watch your friends and bros she be slobbin their knobs in the backseat if your car jump 20 years in the future and that is the real life story of how Phill Collins became the lead sing of the village people