*"The Fowley Song"*

In school I learned the seven deadly sins
Including evil wrath.
I'd been taught to quell hot anger
And stop it in its path.
Along with this I also learned
Murder's wrong, even 'gainst a foe,
So Lord absolve the sin that I'm living in,
But Agent Fowley's gotta go!

CHORUS:
Oh, X-Files is mysterious,
It's hard to tell truth from lie,
But one thing is for certain,
Diana Fowley has to die.
:End Of Chorus:

Who knows exactly how she'll go,
Anyone want to take bets?
It could be due to rancid meat
Or cyanide-laced cigarettes,
Or maybe due to a mutant strain
Of deadly pneumonia,
Or we could let her grow old in Siberian cold
And wish her "Do Svidaniya."

::REPEAT CHORUS::

Maybe we should dig a ditch,
Bury her ten feet underground,
Or leave her down in Africa
Where tse-tse flies abound,
Or stir up some pungent potion
And offer her a quaff,
Or feed her to a hungry zoo,
All to watch that bitch kiss of.
~ ~ ~
CHORUS
~ ~ ~
We could drop her in the ocean,
And make sure she has no air,
Or mix acid with the shampoo
She uses for her nappy hair,
Or introduce her to the floks that live
In Chaco Chicken town,
She'll put up a fight, but that's alright,
'Cause her ass is going down.

::REPEAT CHORUS::

We could use her as a test dummy
For crappy French-built cars,
Or strap her to a rocket ship
And send her right to Mars,
But we know there's only one way
We could say, "She deserved what she got..."
With a sense of pride, we shold step aside
And let Scully take a shot.

::REPEAT CHORUS::