He wants to cream in a young man. . .
He fears becoming an old man.
He's got pedophile pathology.
His pep-club members, more freaky than he.
Pitiful losers love him, one and all.
Like his plastic surgeon, they make your skin crawl.

These bozos think he's their best friend
Each of them is stuck in a dead end.
These pathetic and abject little pests,
Like vermin lodgers emergin' from nests.
Pitiful losers come to watch him fall.
Like his plastic surgeon, they make your skin crawl.
They make your skin crawl,
They make your skin crawl.

For prosecution, they've got enmity, enmity;
Their lame hero worship induces ennui
As they parade shamelessly on TV.