Lletres: The Residents. Harry The Head.

The Head was hardly human
The head is finally dead
"I can live forever
In formaldehyde", he said.
Once he made me so mad
I knocked him on the floor;
He rolled around and found a
little paint brush
by the door;
As he held it in his teeth
he painted angels
On the skirt I wore.
Harry
Harry
Harry
Harry -- The Head is dead.
Harry -- The Head is dead.
Harry -- The Head is dead.