#theme: dean

(sing to the tune of I will Survive by Diana Ross)

First I was getting drunk, I was feeling down,

Until my good friend Dean showed up like some sappy clown,

He told me “The world might end, let’s blaze of glory it instead!”

And I joined in, and punched Amara in her head.

And so you’re back: Oh what a gas!

Amara blew that upstart Lucifer right out your angel ass.

I should've changed the locks to Hell, I should’ve made you leave your key

So you won’t accidentally walk in on Billie going down on me.

Go on now go, for that drive with Dean!

See if I care if you both touch each other’s morbid little peen,

Weren’t you the one who once betrayed me like an ass?

You’d think I’d crumble, and suddenly run out of sass?

Oh no, not I, I will survive!

Another stupid season ends and Daddy just refused to die.

I’ve got Hell back so I’ll live and I have zero fucks to give,

Your hand-stabbing ways 

That go on for days 

No longer impress me, my pet.

You had your chance

To ask me to dance

But we are not waltzing quite yet.

So I’ll scoop her up

That Darkness young pup

And show her the best parts of Hell.

I’ll feed her the soul

Of the big and the small

Me and my bestie

Doing the nasty,

Me and my pal

Could’ve ruled Hell.

I care not for your treachery,

Your whining or your lechery,

Each time you stab my arsehole,

I like it even more.

You think you've double crossed me,

Like garbage out you tossed me,

But, pet, I'll see your window

And turn it back to door.

Because that's how I planned it,

You're trapped inside my gambit,

And you won't know what hit you

I curse my traitor little heart

That goes all piddly when you call

And sends me scurrying along

Towards you like some horny tart.

Yet, more than that I curse your face

That haunts my dreams though I don't sleep

It calls and pulls me from the deep

And tolls the bell of my disgrace.

I'd hoped that you would want to "hang",

Or have a beer, or catch a flick.

Instead you want the stabby stick

And that's the reason that you rang.

So, fine, I'll get your donkey blade,

And do your bidding one last time,

And I'll forget that you were mine,

Resolution, resolute, I resolve to be

Dapper, droll, and debonaire,

Evil little me.

Resolution number one:

Must un-Dean for good.

He's un-demoned and undone

All is as it should.

Resolution number two:

Cease this crush on Moose.

He's too tall to even kiss,

Really, it's no use.

Resolution number three:

De-obsess with Cas.

Must no longer give him Grace,

Only give him sass.

Resolution number four:

Keep an eye on Mum!

Be unmoved by her sly ways,

Resolutely glum.

Resolution, resolute, I resolve to be,

The most Hellish King of Hell

It's my job as King of Hell

Not to give a toss,

And to laugh at human tears

While they mourn a loss.

But now frequently I find

Boredom creeping in,

With it - feelings of regret

Over Lean Mean Dean.

Supplicants who wait without,

Creeps who crawl within:

I'd prefer your company,

The two of you suck!

Not a drop of constancy