You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch
You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch
You really are a heel
You're as cuddly as a cactus
You're as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch
You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel
You're a monster, Mr. Grinch
Your heart's an empty hole
Your brain is full of spiders
You've got garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch
I wouldn't touch you with a 39-and-a-half-foot pole
You're a vile one, Mr. Grinch
You have termites in your smile
You have all the tender sweetness
Of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch
Given a choice between the two of you
I'd take the seasick crocodile
You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch
You're a nasty-wasty skunk
Your heart is full of unwashed socks
Your soul is full of gunk, Mr. Grinch
The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote
"Stink, stank, stunk"
You're a rotter, Mr. Grinch
You're the king of sinful sots
Your heart's a dead tomato
Splotched with moldy purple spots, Mr. Grinch
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. Grinch
With a nauseous super naus
You're a crooked jerky jockey
And you drive a crooked hoss, Mr. Grinch
You're a three-decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich
With arsenic sauce
You really are a heel
You're as cuddly as a cactus
You're as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch
You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel
You're a monster, Mr. Grinch
Your heart's an empty hole
Your brain is full of spiders
You've got garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch
I wouldn't touch you with a 39-and-a-half-foot pole
You're a vile one, Mr. Grinch
You have termites in your smile
You have all the tender sweetness
Of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch
Given a choice between the two of you
I'd take the seasick crocodile
You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch
You're a nasty-wasty skunk
Your heart is full of unwashed socks
Your soul is full of gunk, Mr. Grinch
The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote
"Stink, stank, stunk"
You're a rotter, Mr. Grinch
You're the king of sinful sots
Your heart's a dead tomato
Splotched with moldy purple spots, Mr. Grinch
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. Grinch
With a nauseous super naus
You're a crooked jerky jockey
And you drive a crooked hoss, Mr. Grinch
You're a three-decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich
With arsenic sauce
Credits
Writer(s): Theodor S. Geisel, Albert Hague
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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