Stephen Lynch Bowling Song (Almighty Malachi, Professional Bowling God) Lyrics

You watch me on your TV.
Say that my job is easy.
Say I am not athletic.
You think my sport's pathetic.

But you can't judge me 'till you walked a mile in my bowling shoes.

So I don't get all the ladies.
And my clothes are from the 80's
I am known throughout the valleys.
As the prophet of alleys.

And as I roll the ball I cry, "Let me bowl or let me die!"
I'm almighty Malakai, the bowling god.
The smell of rosin gets my high.
Kiss those f___in' pins goodbye!
I'm almighty Malakai, the bowling... the bowling... god.

Got a ball that's smooth and all black.
I keep it in my lucky ball-sac.
I get a feeling in my soul.
As I finger every hole.

Not a single men will try, to beat almighty Malakai.
All that challenge me are slain.
Come on, f___ers pick a lane.
Marshall Home and Gary d___ens, get in line for your a__ kickins'.
John Patracky and Norton Duke, your so lame it makes me puke.
Who amongst the pro-bowl sector.
Dares to don his wrist protector.
Not that p____ Nelson Burton, tells me that his wrist is hurtin'.
Hey Mark Walfey, Earl the Pearl, are ya' scared to give the ball a hurl?
How bout' d___ey Webber and his son Pete? I'll turn the motha f___as to cream of wheat!