On this day Jesus crawled from underneath his rock
He said 'gather round motherfuckers, because I'm going to teach you how to rock'
He made the ultimate sacrifice
So we can eat chocolate eggs for life
He braved it, he nailed it
For that toy in your Kinder Surprise
As I tear up my wrapper, tear up my wrapper
I think of your life going down the crapper
As I tear up my wrapper, tear up my wrapper
The shops are closed today - it doesn't really matter
As I'm lost in this moment of bliss
He made the ultimate sacrifice
So we can eat chocolate eggs for life
He braved it, he nailed it
For that toy in the Kinder Surprise
As I wolfed down the sweet stuff, wolfed down the sweet stuff
I think of you on the cross, you must've had it tough
As I wolfed down the sweet stuff, wolfed down the sweet stuff
A belly full of glutony - if you don't like it, tough
As I'm lost in this moment of bliss
He made the ultimate sacrifice
So we can eat chocolate eggs for life
He braved it, he fucking nailed it
For that toy in your Kinder Surprise
He made the ultimate sacrifice
So we can eat chocolate eggs for life
He braved it, he fucking nailed it
For that toy in your Kinder Surprise
Well, Jesus picked up his sandals, turned around and sighed
I knew everything he had said - he had lied
But, that was OK
Because I said my name was Gregory
Release notes:
All words & music by Bri Jnr. & Tico Jnr.
Tico Jnr. cocks a leg and squirms:
Without doubt, this is in our top 100 songs. It's not clear when it was written, although according to a video recording of the writing session it was on the 19th August, 2017 - exactly one day after my 20ish birthday. You can tell spirits were high as I really frolic on the frets.
A fact for the fans, this saucy number was originally titled His Greatest Sacrifice.
One must give Bri some credit, as he did most of the stuff that I didn't do on it.
Bri Jnr., desperate for attention, affirms:
It is a rare moment when I am not involved in biscuit-related activity. That rare moment falls around the anniversary of Jesus on the cross, which we all rightly commemorate by consuming egg-shaped chocolate by the bucketload. And my broken biscuit stall pays its respects to the son of god by only selling half-wrapped and cracked chocolate Easter eggs for a limited period of time (while stocks last).
This relentlessly chirpy singalong would make for a good contemporary nursery rhyme if you took all of the swearing out. A co-write by Tico and I while we were both high on E numbers and prompted by a conversation ecstatically recalling the peak Kinder Surprise days when teeny terrapins were all the rage. If this praiseworthy anthem doesn't get all those dedicated churchgoers dancing devotedly in the pews then there really is no god. Jesus Christ, what a blasphemous thought.
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