The Boring Exorcism of David Beckham Lyrics

Victoria hosts a dinner party.
The guests are in the foyer.
The Hollywood elite begin to meet and greet.
David walks down the stairs.
The crowd could not prepare.
A man they once adored urinating on the floor.

On this evening so wicked, a wretched demon awakens from slumber. Communications with deadly deceased. A spirit so evil, on souls it does feast. Ghastly inhabitant from the cold dead in-between.

Should not have tampered with that board, an ancient demon has been spawned.
Should not have tampered with that board, requires cleansing from the lord…

The priest is in his bedroom.
Possession has been assumed.
He needs to be made right on this deathly winter’s night.
Years of sports acclaim.
Endless praise and fame.
His mortal shell’s been claimed. It lives inside him!

Bed barely shakes and a slight dimming of the lights.
David sits upright, you’d expect a chilling fright.
His head doesn’t spin. No sign of vomit or even spit.
Just sits there vacantly; this haunting is really shit.

On this evening so mild, an underwhelming demon awakens from slumber. Communications with the dullard deceased. A spirit so tepid, on souls it tries to feast. Average inhabitant from the cold dead in-between.

A lack of levitation.
No body scarification.
No crucifix masturbation.
Very little devastation.
No slamming of the doors.
No vomit covered walls.
Just a footballer with nice hair, who can’t stop pissing everywhere.

“In the Name and by the power of Our Lord Jesus Christ, may you be snatched away and driven from the Church of God. Begone, Satan, inventor and master of all deceit, enemy of man's salvation. David, Bend the demons will… Bend its will, Beckham!”

On this evening so boring, a proper wank demon awakens from slumber. Communications with the tiresome deceased. A spirit so awful, I’m more scared of the priest. Dreadful inhabitant from the cold dead in-between.