Out in the garden it’s pissing it down
It’s raining cats and dogs, and the
birds and the frogs are enjoying the rain-sodden ground
And the pigeons waddling happy and free
with such ornithological glee
But then a jealous feeling slowly encompasses me

I’m sitting sadly watching pigeons in the birdbath
Washing their feathers, must be such a good laugh
Doing the things that pigeons are supposed to do
The pigeon family’s out there, sister and brother
Eagerly they all peck the crap out of each other
I wonder, can it be that tough, oh would it be so rough,
to be a pigeon too?

Out in the garden it’s raining like hell
I rubbed glue all over and rolled in some feathers, to look like a pigeon as well
Ran outside and flapped my arms, how I tried
But I had to retreat back inside
Attacked by pigeon beaks and pecks and claws, I nearly died

And so I’m glaring at the pigeons in the birdbath
who are about to experience my wrath
Might say I’m overreacting, but what do you know?
My sweet revenge will be so satisfactory
Shouldn’t have messed with Vesa-Matti Loiri
I’ll take my Smith & Wesson, to teach them a lesson
Those birds have got to go…HM!

[Vesa-Matti hums and mutters to himself maniacally]

I calmly contemplate the pigeons in my birdbath
Loading my pistol, ready for a bloodbath
All of those dirty birds can kiss their ass goodbye
I love the smell of pigeons shot-dead in the morning
Best to attack them swiftly without warning
When the massacre’s all done, oh won’t it be such fun
to bake a pigeon pie…MM!

Coo!