I don’t have the kind of blood
That true avenging angels should,
The stuff that runs inside this vein
Would rather walk or take the train
So I can’t say I like the taste
Of revenge, it goes to waste
On such as me –too mild and meek
To even turn the other cheek.
I don’t do no woe betide.
Just give me someplace safe to hide
Sweet revenge gives me the runs
My sweet is chocolate, ice cream, buns.
I would have to love thee
That you’d have power to hurt me.
So why would it be strange,
To never want revenge?