Devils, Rogues & Other Villains
A more humane Mikado never Did in Japan exist To nobody second I'm certainly reckoned A true philanthropist! It is my very humane endeavour To make, to some extent Each evil liver A running river Of harmless merriment! My object all sublime I shall achieve in time – To let the punishment fit the crime – The punishment fit the crime! And make each prisoner pent Unwillingly represent A source of innocent merriment – Of innocent merriment! All prosy dull society sinners Who chatter and bleat and bore Are sent to hear sermons From mystical Germans Who preach from ten till four! The amateur tenor Whose vocal villainies All desire to shirk Shall, during off-hours Exhibit his powers To Madame Tussaud's waxwork! The lady who dyes a chemical yellow Or stains her grey hair puce Or pinches her figure Is painted with vigour And permanent walnut juice! The idiot who, in railway carriages Scribbles on window-panes We only suffer To ride on a buffer In Parliamentary trains! My object all sublime I shall achieve in time – To let the punishment fit the crime – The punishment fit the crime! And make each prisoner pent Unwillingly represent A source of innocent merriment – Of innocent merriment! His object all sublime He will achieve in time – To let the punishment fit the crime – The punishment fit the crime! And make each prisoner pent Unwillingly represent A source of innocent merriment – Of innocent merriment! The advertising quack who wearies With tales of countless cures His teeth, I've enacted Shall all be extracted By terrified amateurs! The music-hall singer attends a series Of masses and fugues and "ops" By Bach, interwoven With Spohr and Beethoven, At classical Monday Pops! The billiard sharp Who any one catches, His doom's extremely hard – He's made to dwell – In a dungeon cell On a spot that's always barred! And there he plays extravagant matches In fitless finger-stalls On a cloth untrue With a twisted cue And elliptical billiard balls! My object all sublime I shall achieve in time – To let the punishment fit the crime – The punishment fit the crime! And make each prisoner pent Unwillingly represent A source of innocent merriment – Of innocent merriment! His object all sublime He will achieve in time – To let the punishment fit the crime – The punishment fit the crime! And make each prisoner pent Unwillingly represent A source of innocent merriment – Of innocent merriment!
Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 26, 2025
Und der Haifisch, der hat Zähne Und die trägt er im Gesicht Und Macheath, der hat ein Messer Doch das Messer sieht man nicht! An 'nem schönen blauen Sonntag Liegt ein toter Mann am Strand Und ein Mensch geht um die Ecke Den man Mackie Messer nennt! Und Schmul Meier bleibt verschwunden Und so mancher reiche Mann Und sein Geld hat Mackie Messer Dem man nichts beweisen kann! Jenny Towler ward gefunden Mit 'nem Messer in der Brust Und am Kai geht Mackie Messer Der von allem nichts gewusst! Und das große Feuer in Soho – Sieben Kinder und ein Greis – In der Menge Mackie Messer, den Man nichts fragt, und der nichts weiß! Und die minderjähr'ge Witwe Deren Namen jeder weiß Wachte auf und war geschändet – Mackie, welches war dein Preis? Wachte auf und war geschändet – Mackie, welches war dein Preis?
Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Apr 26, 2025
Non più andrai, farfallone amoroso Notte e giorno d'intorno girando Delle belle turbando il riposo Narcisetto, Adoncino d'amor! Delle belle turbando il riposo Narcisetto, Adoncino d'amor! Non più avrai questi bei pennacchini Quel cappello leggiero e galante Quella chioma, quell'aria brillante Quel vermiglio donnesco color! Quel vermiglio donnesco color! Non piu avrai quei penacchini Quel cappello Quella chioma, quell'aria brillante! Non più andrai, farfallone amoroso Notte e giorno d'intorno girando Delle belle turbando il riposo Narcisetto, Adoncino d'amor! Delle belle turbando il riposo Narcisetto, Adoncino d'amor! Fra guerrieri, poffar Bacco! Gran mustacchi, stretto sacco Schioppo in spalla, sciabla al fianco Collo dritto, muso franco Un gran casco, o un gran turbante Molto onor, poco contante – Poco contante – Poco contante! Ed invece del fandango Una marcia per il fango! Per montagne, per valloni Con le nevi, e i sollïoni Al concerto di tromboni Di bombarde, di cannoni Che le palle in tutti i tuoni All'orecchio fan fischiar! Non piu avrai quei penacchini Non piu avrai quel cappello Non piu avrai quella chioma Non piu avrai quell'aria brillante! Non più andrai, farfallone amoroso Notte e giorno d'intorno girando Delle belle turbando il riposo Narcisetto, Adoncino d'amor! Delle belle turbando il riposo Narcisetto, Adoncino d'amor! Cherubino, alla vittoria! Alla gloria militar! Cherubino, alla vittoria! Alla gloria militar – Alla gloria militar – Alla gloria militar!
Submitted by SerpentEve — Apr 26, 2025
Ух, тяжело! Дай дух переведу… Я чувствовал, вся кровь мне кинулась в лицо и тяжко опускалась. О, совесть лютая, как тяжко ты караешь! Ежели в тебе пятно единое, единое случайно завелося, о, Душа сгорит, нальётся сердце ядом, так тяжко, тяжко станет, что молотом стучит в ушах упрёком и проклятьем… И душит что-то… Душит… И голова кружится… В глазах дитя окровавленное… Вон… вон там, что это там? В углу… Колышется, растёт… Близится, дрожит и стонет… Чур, чур… Не я… не я твой лиходей… Чур, чур, дитя! Не я… не я… Нет, не я! Воля народа! Чур, чур, дитя! Чур! Господи! Ты не хочешь смерти грешника, помилуй душу преступного царя Бориса!
Submitted by Corpse Grinder — Apr 26, 2025
Vous qui faites l'endormie N'entendez-vous pas N'entendez-vous pas! Ô Catherine, ma mie N'entendez-vous pas Ma voix et mes pas? Ainsi ton gallant t'appelle Ainsi ton gallant t'appelle Et ton coeur l'en crois! Ah, ah, ah, ah! Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ahh! N'ouvre ta porte, ma belle Que la bague au doigt! N'ouvre ta porte, ma belle Que la bague au doigt! Que la bague au doigt! Catherine que j'adore Pourquoi refuser Pourquoi refuser A l'amant qui vous implore Pourquoi refuser un si doux baiser? Ainsi ton gallant supplie Ainsi ton gallant supplie Et ton coeur en croit! Ah, ah, ah, ah! Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ahh! Ne donne un baiser, ma mie Que la bague au doigt! Ne donne un baiser, ma mie Que la bague au doigt! Que la bague au doigt! Ah, ah, ah, ah! Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah! Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah! Ahhhhh! Ahahahahahhhhhhhh!
Submitted by Immortal — Apr 26, 2025
An old cowboy went riding out one dark and windy day Upon a ridge he rested as he went along his way When all at once a mighty herd of red eyed cows he saw A-plowing through the ragged sky – and up the cloudy draw! Yippie yi yay Yippie yi ooh The Ghost Riders in the sky! Their brands were still on fire and their hooves were made of steel Their horns were black and shiny and their hot breath he could feel A bolt of fear went through him as they thundered through the sky For he saw the Riders coming hard – and he heard their mournful cry! Yippie yi yay Yippie yi ooh The Ghost Riders in the sky! Their faces gaunt, their eyes were blurred, and shirts all soaked with sweat He's riding hard to catch that herd, but he ain't caught 'em yet 'Cause they've got to ride forever on that range up in the sky On horses snorting fire – as they ride on hear their cry! Yippie yi yay Yippie yi ooh The Ghost Riders in the sky! As the riders loped on by him he heard one call out his name: "If you want to save your soul from Hell a-riding on our range Then cowboy change your ways today or with us you will ride Trying to catch the Devil's herd – across these endless skies!" Yippie yi yay Yippie yi ooh The Ghost Riders in the sky! The Ghost Riders in the sky!
Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 26, 2025
Hier sitz' ich zur Wacht Wahre den Hof Wehre die Halle dem Feind! Gibichs Sohne wehet der Wind Auf Werben fährt er dahin! Ihm führt das Steuer ein starker Held – Gefahr ihm will er bestehn! Die eigne Braut ihm bringt er zum Rhein – Mir aber bringt er den Ring! Ihr freien Söhne, frohe Gesellen Segelt nur lustig dahin! Dünkt er euch niedrig Ihr dient ihm doch – Des Niblungen Sohn!
Submitted by BloodShrine — Apr 26, 2025
I had him! And then . . . I had him! His throat was bare beneath my hand – No, I had him! His throat was there and he'll never come again! When? Why do I wait? You told me to wait – Now he'll never come again! There's a hole in the world Like a great black pit And it's filled with people Who are filled with shit And the vermin of the world inhabit it – But not for long . . . They all deserve to die – Tell you why, Mrs. Lovett, tell you why! Because in all of the whole human race Mrs. Lovett, there are two kinds of men and only two There's the one staying put In his proper place And the one with his foot In the other one's face – Look at me, Mrs Lovett, look at you! No, we all deserve to die – Even you, Mrs. Lovett, even I! Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief For the rest of us death will be a relief – We all deserve to die! And I'll never see Johanna No I'll never hug my girl to me – finished! Alright! You Sir, how about a shave? Come and visit your good friend Sweeney – You Sir, too Sir! Welcome to the grave! I will have vengeance – I will have salvation – Who Sir, you Sir? No one's on the chair, come on! Come on! Sweeney's waiting! I want you bleeders! You Sir! Anybody! Gentlemen now don't be shy! Not one man, no, nor ten men Nor a hundred can assuage me – I will have you! And I will get him back even as he gloats In the meantime I'll practice on dishonorable throats And my Lucy lies in ashes – And I'll never see my girl again! But the work waits! I'm alive at last – And I'm full of joy!
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Apr 26, 2025
Le veau d'or est toujours debout On encense sa puissance – On encense sa puissance D'un bout du monde à l'autre bout! Pour fêter l'infâme idole Rois et peuples confondus Au bruit sombre des écus Dansent une ronde folle Autour de son piédestal – Autour de son piédestal! Et Satan conduit le bal – Conduit le bal! Et Satan conduit le bal – Conduit le bal! Et Satan conduit le bal – Conduit le bal – Conduit le bal! Et Satan conduit le bal – Conduit le bal – Conduit le bal! Le veau d'or est vainqueur des dieux Dans sa gloire dérisoire – Dans sa gloire dérisoire Le monstre abjecte insulte aux cieux! Il contemple – ô rage étrange! A ses pieds le genre humain Se ruant, le fer en main Dans le sang et dans la fange Où brille l'ardent métal – Où brille l'ardent métal! Et Satan conduit le bal – Conduit le bal! Et Satan conduit le bal – Conduit le bal! Et Satan conduit le bal – Conduit le bal – Conduit le bal! Et Satan conduit le bal – Conduit le bal – Conduit le bal! Héaaaaa!
Submitted by The Void — Apr 26, 2025
I stole the Prince, and I brought him here And left him gaily prattling With a highly respectable gondolier Who promised the Royal babe to rear And teach him the trade of a timoneer With his own beloved bratling! Both of the babes were strong and stout And, considering all things, clever! Of that there is no manner of doubt – No probable, possible shadow of doubt – No possible doubt whatever! But owing, I'm much disposed to fear To his terrible taste for tippling That highly respectable gondolier Could never declare with a mind sincere Which of the two was his offspring dear And which the Royal stripling! Which was which he could never make out Despite his best endeavour1 Of that there is no manner of doubt – No probable, possible shadow of doubt – No possible doubt whatever! Time sped, and when at the end of a year I sought that infant cherished That highly respectable gondolier Was lying a corpse on his humble bier – I dropped a Grand Inquisitor's tear – That gondolier had perished! A taste for drink, combined with gout! Had doubled him up for ever! Of that there is no manner of doubt – No probable, possible shadow of doubt – No possible doubt whatever! The children followed his old career – (This statement can't be parried!) Of a highly respectable gondolier: Well, one of the two (who will soon be here) – But which of the two is not quite clear – Is the Royal Prince you married! Search in and out and round about And you'll discover never A tale so free from every doubt – All probable, possible shadow of doubt – All possible doubt whatever! A tale so free from every doubt – All probable, possible shadow of doubt – All possible doubt whatever!
Submitted by Warbringer — Apr 26, 2025
Credo in un dio crudel che m'ha creato Simile a sé e che nell'ira io nomo! Dalla viltà d'un germe o d'un atòmo Vile son nato! Son scellerato Perché son uomo E sento il fango originario in me! Sì! Questa è la mia fé! Credo con fermo cuor, siccome crede La vedovella al tempio Che il mal ch'io penso e che da me procede Per mio destino adempio! Credo che il giusto è un istrïon beffardo E nel viso e nel cuor Che tutto è in lui bugiardo: Lagrima, bacio, sguardo Sacrificio ed onor! E credo l'uom gioco d'iniqua sorte Dal germe della culla – Al verme dell'avel! Vien dopo tanta irrisïon la morte! E poi? E poi? – La morte è il nulla E vecchia fola il ciel! Hahahahahahahahaha!
Submitted by Nargaroth — Apr 26, 2025
Once there lived a king, And a flea lived with him. A Flea, a flea! It was closer than a brother to him A Flea! – ha ha ha ha ha – a flea! Ha ha ha ha ha – A Flea! The king called for a tailor – “Listen, you blockhead, For my dearest friend Make a velvety caftan!” “A caftan for the flea?! For the flea! Caftan?!..” Ha ha “A caftan for the flea!” In gold and velvet This flea was dressed. And full freedom Was given to it at court. To the Flea! Ha-ha! The king granted a title of minister to it And gave an medal along with it. And all the others had to submit to the flea. Ha ha And even her highness, the Queen And all her ladies in waiting Were fed up with the fleas And lost their quiet living. Ha-ha And they were afraid to touch it, Or even to beat it. But if they start biting us – Let’s smother them at once!
Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Apr 26, 2025
As I walked out in the streets of Laredo As I walked out in Laredo one day I spied a young cowboy all wrapped in white linen All wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay "I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy!" These words he did say as I boldly stepped by "Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story I am shot in the breast and I know I must die! It was once in the saddle I used to go dashing It was once in the saddle I used to make hay First down to Rosie's and then to the card-house Got shot in the breast and I am dying today! Get six jolly cowboys to carry my coffin Get six pretty maidens to bear up my pall! Put bunches of roses all over my coffin Put roses to deaden the sods as they fall! Oh, beat the drum slowly and playe the fife lowly And play the dead march as you carry me along Take me to the green valley, and lay the sod o'er me For I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong! Oh, beat the drum slowly and playe the fife lowly And play the dead march as you carry me along Take me to the green valley, and lay the sod o'er me For I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong! Then swing your rope slowly and rattle your spurs lowly And give a wild whoop as you carry me along And in the grave throw me and roll the sod o'er me For I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong!"
Submitted by Pestilence — Apr 26, 2025
Schwüles Gedünst schwebt in der Luft Lästig ist mir der trübe Druck! Das bleiche Gewölk Samml' ich zu blitzendem Wetter Das fegt den Himmel mir hell! He da! He da! He do! Zu mir, du Gedüft! Ihr Dünste, zu mir! Donner, der Herr Euft euch zu Heer! Auf des Hammers Schwung schwebet herbei! Dunstig Gedämpf Schwebend Gedüft – Donner, der Herr Ruft euch zu Heer! He da! He da! He do! Bruder, hieher! Weise der Brücke den Weg!
Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Apr 26, 2025
I am I, Don Quixote The Lord of La Mancha – My destiny calls and I go! And the wild winds of fortune Will carry me onward Oh whithersoever they blow! Whithersoever they blow – Onward to glory I go! Hear me, heathens and wizards And serpents of sin – All your dastardly doings are past! For a holy endeavor is now to begin And virtue shall triumph at last! I am I, Don Quixote The Lord of la Mancha – My destiny calls and I go! And the wild winds of fortune Will carry me onwar Oh whithersoever they blow! Whithersoever they blow – Onward to glory I go! Ho!
Submitted by Lake of Tears — Apr 26, 2025