we can crack it open, if we're so inclined.
But we'll need a crack team.
A team that's never been rivaled.
There's Two-Guns Johnny, named on account of his two guns, he's the "sharpshooter",
there's Big Keith and Li'l Jose, they're the muscle
and of course, our man on the inside
his older brother.
Oswald knows lots of things that us fleshlings can't,
and he knows how to tune the toons to detune the toonguards,
Keith and Jose will swagger in behind him
(lookin' all mean)
and Johnny's got his pistols packed and pointed, square at any square-jaw that tries to stop us.
The job is easier than they think it oughta be,
but when we're in, we're in.
this is the hate-treasure of america.
Oswald walks up, got a hammer in his hand.
He ain't happy to see what's become of his brothers, sisters, younger siblings of all stripes.
It's all gone wackadoodle, and not in the funny way the toons like.
Hammer hits vault and cracks open like a shattered pot
Air Pirates run free in the room, and everything else pours out in waves, from the early early
early early boys
to the Marvel gang, to Luke and Darth Vader
all standing in a room
They've escaped the hate-treasure of america.
Bob & Bob are horrified,
the trades'll lap it up though.
Something beautiful and terrible died tonight.
The hate-treasure of america.