Bowling Song (almighty malachi, professional bowling god) Lyrics
| Song | Bowling Song (almighty malachi, professional bowling god) |
| Artist | Stephen Lynch |
| Album | Superhero |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Lynch | |
| You watch me on your | |
| TV. Say that my job is easy. | |
| Say I am not athletic. | |
| You think my sport's pathetic. | |
| But you can't judge me 'till you walked a mile in my bowling shoes. | |
| So I don't get all the ladies. | |
| Gotta mullet from the 80's | |
| I am known throughout the valleys. | |
| As the prophet of alleys. | |
| And as I roll the ball | |
| I cry, "Let me bowl or let me die!" | |
| I'm Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling god. | |
| The smell of resin gets my high. | |
| Kiss those ****ing pins goodbye! | |
| I'm Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling... the bowling... god. | |
| Got a ball that's smooth and all black. | |
| I keep it in my lucky ball sack. | |
| I get a feeling in my soul. | |
| As I finger every hole. | |
| And as I roll the ball | |
| I cry, "Let me bowl or let me die!" | |
| I'm Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling god. | |
| The smell of resin gets my high. | |
| Kiss those mother****ing pins goodbye! | |
| I'm Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling... bowling... | |
| Not a single man will try, to beat | |
| Almighty Malachi. | |
| All who challenge me are slain. | |
| Come on, ****ers, pick a lane. | |
| Marshall Holden, | |
| Gary Dickens, get in line for your ass kickins'. | |
| John Patraglia, | |
| Norm Duke, your so lame it makes me puke. | |
| Who among the pro-bowl sector. | |
| Dares to don his wrist protector. | |
| Not that pussy | |
| Nelson Burton, tells me that his wrist is hurtin'. | |
| Hey my prophet, | |
| Earl the Pearl, are ya' scared to give the ball a hurl? | |
| How bout' | |
| Dicky Weber and his son | |
| Pete? I'll turn the mother****ers to cream of wheat! | |
| And as I roll the ball | |
| I cry, "Let me bowl or let me die!" | |
| I'm Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling god. | |
| The smell of resin gets my high. | |
| Kiss those ****ing pins goodbye! | |
| I'm Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling... bowling god!! | |
| Yeaaaaaaah! | |
| The bowling god! |
| zuo qu : Lynch | |
| You watch me on your | |
| TV. Say that my job is easy. | |
| Say I am not athletic. | |
| You think my sport' s pathetic. | |
| But you can' t judge me ' till you walked a mile in my bowling shoes. | |
| So I don' t get all the ladies. | |
| Gotta mullet from the 80' s | |
| I am known throughout the valleys. | |
| As the prophet of alleys. | |
| And as I roll the ball | |
| I cry, " Let me bowl or let me die!" | |
| I' m Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling god. | |
| The smell of resin gets my high. | |
| Kiss those ing pins goodbye! | |
| I' m Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling... the bowling... god. | |
| Got a ball that' s smooth and all black. | |
| I keep it in my lucky ball sack. | |
| I get a feeling in my soul. | |
| As I finger every hole. | |
| And as I roll the ball | |
| I cry, " Let me bowl or let me die!" | |
| I' m Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling god. | |
| The smell of resin gets my high. | |
| Kiss those mother ing pins goodbye! | |
| I' m Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling... bowling... | |
| Not a single man will try, to beat | |
| Almighty Malachi. | |
| All who challenge me are slain. | |
| Come on, ers, pick a lane. | |
| Marshall Holden, | |
| Gary Dickens, get in line for your ass kickins'. | |
| John Patraglia, | |
| Norm Duke, your so lame it makes me puke. | |
| Who among the probowl sector. | |
| Dares to don his wrist protector. | |
| Not that pussy | |
| Nelson Burton, tells me that his wrist is hurtin'. | |
| Hey my prophet, | |
| Earl the Pearl, are ya' scared to give the ball a hurl? | |
| How bout' | |
| Dicky Weber and his son | |
| Pete? I' ll turn the mother ers to cream of wheat! | |
| And as I roll the ball | |
| I cry, " Let me bowl or let me die!" | |
| I' m Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling god. | |
| The smell of resin gets my high. | |
| Kiss those ing pins goodbye! | |
| I' m Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling... bowling god!! | |
| Yeaaaaaaah! | |
| The bowling god! |
| zuò qǔ : Lynch | |
| You watch me on your | |
| TV. Say that my job is easy. | |
| Say I am not athletic. | |
| You think my sport' s pathetic. | |
| But you can' t judge me ' till you walked a mile in my bowling shoes. | |
| So I don' t get all the ladies. | |
| Gotta mullet from the 80' s | |
| I am known throughout the valleys. | |
| As the prophet of alleys. | |
| And as I roll the ball | |
| I cry, " Let me bowl or let me die!" | |
| I' m Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling god. | |
| The smell of resin gets my high. | |
| Kiss those ing pins goodbye! | |
| I' m Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling... the bowling... god. | |
| Got a ball that' s smooth and all black. | |
| I keep it in my lucky ball sack. | |
| I get a feeling in my soul. | |
| As I finger every hole. | |
| And as I roll the ball | |
| I cry, " Let me bowl or let me die!" | |
| I' m Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling god. | |
| The smell of resin gets my high. | |
| Kiss those mother ing pins goodbye! | |
| I' m Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling... bowling... | |
| Not a single man will try, to beat | |
| Almighty Malachi. | |
| All who challenge me are slain. | |
| Come on, ers, pick a lane. | |
| Marshall Holden, | |
| Gary Dickens, get in line for your ass kickins'. | |
| John Patraglia, | |
| Norm Duke, your so lame it makes me puke. | |
| Who among the probowl sector. | |
| Dares to don his wrist protector. | |
| Not that pussy | |
| Nelson Burton, tells me that his wrist is hurtin'. | |
| Hey my prophet, | |
| Earl the Pearl, are ya' scared to give the ball a hurl? | |
| How bout' | |
| Dicky Weber and his son | |
| Pete? I' ll turn the mother ers to cream of wheat! | |
| And as I roll the ball | |
| I cry, " Let me bowl or let me die!" | |
| I' m Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling god. | |
| The smell of resin gets my high. | |
| Kiss those ing pins goodbye! | |
| I' m Almighty | |
| Malachi, the bowling... bowling god!! | |
| Yeaaaaaaah! | |
| The bowling god! |
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