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A l m i g h t y M a l a c h i , P r o f e s s i o n a l
B o w l i n g G o d
( R A D I O V E R S I O N )
S T E P H E N L Y N C H
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+--------------------------PLEASE NOTE--------------------------+
+ This file is Jordan Lapping’s own work and represents his +
+ interpretation of the song. You may only use this file for +
+ private study, scholarship, or research. The contents may not +
+ be duplicated for use with other websites without written +
+ permission. Thank you for understanding. Enjoy. +
+---------------------------------------------------------------+
Standard E Tuning, Capo 1st Fret [All chords relative to Capo]
CHORDS USED:
e]--0----0----2----0----3----3--|
B]--2----1----3----0----0----0--|
G]--2----0----2----1----0----0--|
D]--2----2----0----2----0----0--|
A]--0----3---------2----2----0--|
E]-----------------0----3----2--|
INTRO:
- (x4)
VERSE 1:
Yooouuuu watch me on your T.V.
Saaaying that my job is easy
Saaaying I am not athletic
Yooouuuu think my sport's pathetic
But you can't judge me 'till you walked a mile in my bowling shoes
INTERLUDE:
- (x3)
VERSE 2:
Sooooooo I don't get all the ladies
Aaaannnd my clothes are from the '80s
I'mmmmmm known throughout the vallies
As the prophet of the alleys
CHORUS 1:
And as I roll the ball I cry, "Let me bowl or let me die!"
I'm Almighty Malachi, the Bowling God
The smell of resin gets my high, kiss those fucking pins goodbye!
I'm Almighty Malachi, the Bowling, the Bowling... God
INTERLUDE:
- (x3)
VERSE 3:
Goooooot a ball that's smooth and all black
I keeeeeep it in my lucky ball-sack
I geeeeeet a feeling in my soul
As I finger every hole...
CHORUS 2:
And as I roll the ball I cry, "Let me bowl or let me die!"
I'm Almighty Malachi, the Bowling God
The smell of resin gets my high, kiss those fucking pins goodbye!
I'm Almighty Malachi, the Bowling, the Bowling...
BRIDGE:
Not a single man will try to beat Almighty Malachi
All who challenge me are slain - "Come on, fuckers, pick a lane!"
Marshall Holman, Gary Dickens; get in line for your ass kickins'
John Petraglia, Norm Duke; you're so lame it makes me puke
Who among the pro-bowl sector dares to don his wrist protector?
Not that pussy, Nelson Burton; tells me that his wrist is hurtin'
"Hey, Mark Roth and Earl 'The Pearl', are you scared to give the ball a hurl?"
How about 'Dicky' Weber and his son, Pete? I'll turn the motherfuckers to cream of wheat!
CHORUS 3:
And as I roll the ball I cry, "Let me bowl or let me die!"
I'm Almighty Malachi, the Bowling God
The smell of resin gets my high, kiss those fucking pins goodbye!
I'm Almighty Malachi, the Bowling, the Bowling...
The Bowling Gooooooooooooooood! Yeeeeeeeeaaaaaah! The Bowling... God
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