Cold cold cream touches my lips As I lick the cone in my hand, And I go to some memories nice Dreaming still at where I stand
Cold was the blade Of the dagger that I had; Close to the rotten one's chest That hurt them bad
Cold was the blood That came through the gash Making me rethink My decision rash
But when I saw in front of me The trickling treat, Down from the chest Flowing to their feet,
I finished off the work And made their head roll Fetched from the cupboard A marble bowl-
Collected me a treat Bit warm though it was Sticky too a bit But had a different buzz
Put it into the fridge I did And went on a brief hold; Because darling revenge is a dish, Best served cold.