Good Luck

Oh , lalala, you think you have won but lalala I would not agree Haste makes waste but this time it does mean Get retired as we count to three In dos tres Quattros Dear sir or madam I beg your pardon Report that you’ve made Has truly bored me A week postpartum I start to play dumb To speak at random Is what I used to Cry bloody murder Use tape recorder Tracks lost on radars It’s me who blurred them Let me remind you The proof of pudding Is not in treating But in the eating Good luck trying to stop me Employ your army Call for your lobbies You joke? Your thinking is sloppy My motions are copied I’m gonna make whoopee Round! Mother Teresa Would recognise me Once you release back My cancelled visas Ambitions of yours Look like rank nonsense, Your range of vision Goes for asceses I checkmate your sons One-up your daughters Pleased to invest in Your moody posture Let me remind you The proof of pudding Is not in treating But in the eating Good luck trying to stop me Employ your army Call for your lobbies You joke? Your thinking is sloppy My motions are copied I’m gonna make whoopee Round! You look so much masculine Polishing your guillotine My escape from your hugging would become a famous scene Odor of your sacred scheme Much reminds me naphthalene My refined delicious plan Smells of joy and tonka bean So I wish you Good luck trying to stop me Employ your army Call for your lobbies You joke? Your thinking is sloppy My motions are copied I’m gonna make whoopee Round!