James Horner Follow

You really are a heel
You're as cuddly as a cactus
You're as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch
You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel

You're a monster, Mr. Grinch
Your heart's an empty hole
Your brain is full of spiders
You've got garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch
I wouldn't touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole

You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch
You have termites in your smile
You have all the tender sweetness
Of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch
Given the choice between the two of you
I'd take the seasick crocodile

You're a rotter, Mr. Grinch
You're the king of sinful sots
Your heart's a dead tomato splotched
With moldy purple spots, Mr. Grinch
You're a three decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich with arsenic sauce

You nauseate me, Mr. Grinch
With a nauseous super 'naus'
You're a crooked dirty jockey
And you drive a crooked hoss, Mr. Grinch
Your soul is an appalling dump heap
Overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of rubbish imaginable
Mangled up in tangled up knots

You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch
You're a nasty wasty skunk
Your heart is full of unwashed socks
Your soul is full of gunk, Mr. Grinch
The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote
'Stink, stank, stunk!'

You really are a heel
You're as cuddly as a cactus