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Description
A little parody of The Grinch here. I put a little Crocker touch on the song.

You're a mean one, Mr. Crocker.
You really are a heel.
You're as cuddly as a cactus,
You're as charming as an eel.
Mr. Crocker.

You're a bad banana
With a greasy black peel.

You're a monster, Mr. Crocker.
Your heart's an empty hole.
Your brain is full of fairies,
You've got garlic in your soul.
Mr. Crocker.

I wouldn't touch you, with a
thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole.

You're a vile one, Mr. Crocker.
You're a homework-heaving jerk.
You have all the tender sweetness
Of a crocodile's smirk.
Mr. Crocker.

Given the choice between the two of you
I'd take the smirking crocodile.

You're a foul one, Mr. Crocker.
You're a nasty-wasty skunk.
You swamp the kids with failing grades
Your van's a piece of junk.
Mr. Crocker.

The three words that best describe you,
are as follows, and I quote: "Stink. Stank. Stunk."

You're a rotter, Mr. Crocker.
You're the king of all crackpots.
Your heart's a dead tomato splot
With moldy purple spots,
Mr. Crocker

Your soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing
with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable
rubbish imaginable,
Mangled up in tangled up knots.

You nauseate me, Mr. Crocker.
With a nauseous super-naus.
You're a crazy twitching teacher
And you argue with your boss.
Mr. Crocker.

You're a three decker sauerkraut and toadstool
sandwich
With arsenic sauce.

Description
A little parody of The Grinch here. I put a little Crocker touch on the song.

You're a mean one, Mr. Crocker.
You really are a heel.
You're as cuddly as a cactus,
You're as charming as an eel.
Mr. Crocker.

You're a bad banana
With a greasy black peel.

You're a monster, Mr. Crocker.
Your heart's an empty hole.
Your brain is full of fairies,
You've got garlic in your soul.
Mr. Crocker.

I wouldn't touch you, with a
thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole.

You're a vile one, Mr. Crocker.
You're a homework-heaving jerk.
You have all the tender sweetness
Of a crocodile's smirk.
Mr. Crocker.

Given the choice between the two of you
I'd take the smirking crocodile.

You're a foul one, Mr. Crocker.
You're a nasty-wasty skunk.
You swamp the kids with failing grades
Your van's a piece of junk.
Mr. Crocker.

The three words that best describe you,
are as follows, and I quote: "Stink. Stank. Stunk."

You're a rotter, Mr. Crocker.
You're the king of all crackpots.
Your heart's a dead tomato splot
With moldy purple spots,
Mr. Crocker

Your soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing
with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable
rubbish imaginable,
Mangled up in tangled up knots.

You nauseate me, Mr. Crocker.
With a nauseous super-naus.
You're a crazy twitching teacher
And you argue with your boss.
Mr. Crocker.

You're a three decker sauerkraut and toadstool
sandwich
With arsenic sauce.