Mop Handle Mayhem

Janny J, I’m a well-known bandit,

bandit Mop in my hand and I command it,

mand it

Mop it, drop it,

scrub it and sand it,

Floor so clean, nobody can stand it.

Keys on my belt and I’m making ’em jangle,

Chairs all stacked at the perfect angle,

Gum on the desk?

Yh uno know I’ll dismantle,

Janny J’s here with the mop-handle scandal.

Autistic one, Yeah, you know I’m the twisted one,

Mess in the corridor?

I’m the fixing one,

Mop comes out and I’m getting it done.

Always on edge, I’m the twitching one,

Head full of noise,

I’m the drifting one,

Say something strange, I’m the shifting one,

Janny J in the mix — I’m the different one.

Pistol Pete, I be making them tweak,

Twisted at the afters,

been awake for a week,

Jaw doing overtime, can’t even speak,

Lost one trainer and his eyes are looking peak.

Eyes like saucers, pacing the kitchen,

Talking pure madness but nobody’s listening,

Sun coming up and Pete’s still twitching,

Monday morning and man’s still glitching.

Pink Puffin Pete,

yeah, he’s back

on the scene,

Puffing his chest like he’s big and he’s mean,

Talks like a savage,

but we know what he means,

Pink little Puffin, the afters’ drama queen.

Pink Puffin Pete, always losing the plot,

Big man flexing with absolutely squat,

Thinks he’s a menace,

but clearly he’s not,

Puffin by name and a melt on the spot.

I’m the cult leader,

yeah, I’m running the function,

Pink Puffin Pete’s having another malfunction,

Puffs out his chest like he’s causing destruction,

Then folds on the sofa — a total reduction.

I’m the cult leader,

Pete follows instruction, Pink little Puffin with zero production,

Talks like a menace,

but that’s an assumption,

One night with the crew and he needs reconstruction.

Steve Irwin stepped in,

but he ain’t saying shit,

Mute at the afters,

just watching the skit,

Sat in the corner,

not moving a bit,

Ask him a question — he stares at you,

lit. Steve Irwin lurking,

observing the scene, Quietest bloke that the afters has seen,

Everyone chatting, he’s stuck on mute,

Crikey, Steve —

say something, you brute.