What if Paperboy had lyrics?
And what if I sang them accompanied by The Konami Kode, a badass video game cover band?
It'd sound like this!
But first I'd have to, you know, ride over this little ravine, and throw a newspaper at a target for some reason
And then at the very end, there's all these people in bleachers
By "all these people", I mean, like, three people in bleachers
But they're cheering for some reason
I really don't know what the fuck that's about, but
Whatever, here we go

Don't you know me? I'm your paperboy
Throwing bundles of newspaper joy
This neighborhood's a loony bin
I'd rather throw the news in Compton
If you live here, you're probably crazy
Lock your dog up, stop that baby!

I'm on duty, it's all about discipline
Please don't strike me with that rolling pin
I sometimes miss when I throw
Sorry I broke your window

Can't maneuver on a drainage ditch
Cars don't stop here, they'll just hit a bitch

Oh ho ho!
Oh, well!
I didn't realize you were gonna break it down like this, Konami Kode!
Okay, okay!
You know, I, I kind of appreciate it
I don't have to write lyrics over breakdowns
You guys are just adding CD time!
Said a-tick, said a-tock
Said a-tick, said a-tock
A-ticky and a-tocky and a-tick tock tick
Dude, John is tearing it the f' up on that bass, man!
Yeah!
Yeah!
Yeah!
Also, yeah
Mm-hmm

Where you at, Paul?
Mm-hmm!
Oh, yeah!
Great on the keys, I like that!

Now, where's Nick?
Oh, hell, man, I was right on time
There's Nick
Dude, Paperboy has never rocked like this
This is exactly how that little 8-bit paperboy would have wanted it
He's dead now
Just kidding, maybe he's not
I think he's, uh, alive in our hearts
Oh boy, this is what happens when you let Brentalfloss just talk over a breakdown

A man-fro
Likes to tear it up on the drums
Yeah!
Can't stop riding, it's just what I do
My bike pedals are glazed with superglue
I'm on my bike, perpetually
I lay in bed, bike lays with me

On this side street, rules are strict and tight
New subscribers, paint your house white
I have nightmares, shaking at the wheel
Then I wake up and do it for real

Now faulty aim may occur, sorry I threw the paper at a car and killed your father
Now it's Sunday, I am done, I'm out
Fuck these nutbags, fuck this paper route
I'm gonna get a job at Walmart