Tyger King Tyger King, mullet bright,
As the Feds unpick your plight
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame you for fucking up whilst high?

In what distant deeps or skies.
Did you think that this shit flies?
On wings your staff fulfilled your whims,
Nugged on meth with missing limbs.

And what shoulder, or toothless hunk,
Could twist the sinews of thy junk?
And when those hunks began to flee,
What hillbilly tunes did it flare in thee?

Is that a leopard on a chain?
And an alligator gone aflame?
What the serval? And why the glut,
Of caged big cats and weird sex cults?

When the stars threw down their spears
And sent you down for 22 years:
Did she smile her work to see?
As Carole failed to be your assassinee?

Tyger King Tyger King, mullet shorn,
Now caged yourself in ironic scorn
What immortal hand or toe,
Could forget the man Exotic, Joe?