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Bowling Song (Almighty Malachi, Professional Bowling God)
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Stephen Lynch
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1
You watch me on your TV, say that my job is easy.
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Say I am not athletic, you think my sport's pathetic.
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But you can't judge me 'til you've walked a mile
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in my bowling shoes...
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So I don't get all the ladies, got a mullet from the 80's.
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I'm known throughout the valleys as the prophet of alleys...
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And as I roll the ball I cry, "Let me bowl or let me die!"
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I'm Almighty Malachi, the bowling god.
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The smell of rosin gets my high, kiss those fuckin' pins goodbye!
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I'm Almighty Malachi, the bowling... bowling... god.
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Got a ball that's smooth and all black,
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I keep it in my favorite ball sack.
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I get a feeling in my soul as I finger every hole...
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And as I roll the ball I cry, "Let me bowl or let me die!"
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I'm Almighty Malachi, the bowling god.
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The smell of rosin gets my high,
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kiss those motherfuckin' pins goodbye!
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I'm Almighty Malachi, the bowling... bowling...
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Not a single man will try to beat Almighty Malachi.
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All who challenge me are slain; come on fuckers, pick a lane.
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Marshall Holman and Gary Dickens, get in line for your ass kickins'.
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John Petraglia and Norm Duke; you're so lame, it makes me puke.
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Who amongst the pro-bowl sector dares to don his wrist protector?
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Not that pussy Nelson Burton, tells me that his wrist is hurtin'.
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Hey Mark Roth, hey Earl the Pearl,
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are ya' scared to give the ball a hurl?
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How bout' Dickey Webber and his son Pete;
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I'll turn the motherfuckas to Cream of Wheat!
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And as I roll the ball I cry, "Let me bowl or let me die!"
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I'm Almighty Malachi, the bowling god.
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The smell of rosin gets my high, kiss those fuckin' pins goodbye!
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I'm Almighty Malachi, the bowling... bowling god!
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Yeah, the bowling god...
Stephen Lynch - The Bowling Song
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