Hangin’ around, he found on the beach a whale;
creature was as dead, as they say, a doornail.
He got himself a chainsaw and started that thing,
decided, that home a whale part he’d bring.

He chopped,
off the whale’s head he chopped.
Once he started, he couldn’t be stopped.
Madness meant that the whale got chopped.

Already figured out how to get it home:
lash it high above on his minivan’s dome.
Jumped for joy at his new “toy”…sea shanty sang.
Damp ganglions givin’ off a nasty tang.

He’d chopped,
off the whale’s head he’d chopped.
Once he started, he couldn’t be stopped.
Madness grip meant the whale got chopped.

Stank to high heaven, and “Rank” cried his kiddies.
“The smell is making us gag; the head ain’t pretty!”
Dead-whale juice came through windows, and it’s drippy.
Once again he’d shown his insanity.

He’d chopped
the head, then kids got sopped.
This happened before his brain got chomped
by a worm that in his head romped.

Inundated kids continued to moan
as he dragged the stinking, dripping dregs to his home.
Reeking, window-streaking mess perfumed the air.
But what could one expect, the dude just ain’t all there.

His nog-gin
not yet even chomped.
Inside his head was a murky swamp.
For roadkill, down the roads he tromped.

Dude’s not even takin’ drugs that tend to make
people do insane things, like grill roadkill steak.
So, drugs ain’t the reason the dude does things sick,
like douse his kids with whale entrails, and those things stink!

Dude’s off
his head, which got worm-chomped.
Mad words flow out each time he talks.
Brainpan needs large electric shocks.

Pan needs rounds of ’electric shocks;
tamp him down with ’electric shocks….