I'm about ready to bludgeon
Someone with my microphone
And string them up
By my black cord

Stab them with a music stand
And slit their throat with the feet of it
Bash their head into the piano
Then stuff them inside of the instrument

See, choir has become a competition
A sport which everyone is
Now on their own teams
Only rooting for themselves

We all sing together
But we clash and our
Voices don't blend anymore
Instead you hear the individual's song

Selfish and cruel
They all gossip about one another
Manipulating and breaking
Each other down to dust

Confidence stripped and raw
Wounds festering and emotions building
Of the words said behind backs
And not to the face

But just because our backs our turned
Does not make us deaf
But even more unsure of
Ourselves and the people surrounding us

Choir is not a family anymore
It's World War Three
Teeth bared and claws out
Missiles ready to take out other parts

There goes the altos
Taken out by the sopranos
The baritones still talk with the tenors
But the tension is still high

Choir is dangerous
But what they don't realize is
I can be the most cunning and cruel
Animal of them all