Can anyone remember him being seen?
That lean, mean fighting machine
With a costume tight and a cut so clean
And teeth that let out a tinkling gleam.
But can his reputation ever redeem?
When an innocent passer died at the scene
He feld to the morn, sky aqua-marine
They say he was never as brave as he seemed.
But he still fought on, boy wonder supreme
His success built to rival Miss Norma Jean
His stride accompanied by a melodic theme
Kids that talk as they eat their ice cream.

It's a wonder there's any space left to dream
With a head so cramped with self-esteem.
They say he lived his life 'downstream'
Or, rather his head was a fraudulant scheme.

It's a shame people laughed at his head full of dreams
As he leads a life falling apart at the seams.

Well, I still believe in this fighter extreme
This lean, mean fighting machine.

I'll take a double scoop of chocolate, please.