He was the kind of kid you did not want to sit by He kept his boogers in his desk he wore a neck tie And he never washed his hair You wished he wasn't there
But everybody cried The night that Kenny died Everybody cried The night that Kenny died
It was so touching all the girls that would not touch him He drew their pictures in his books I used to watch him And then he'd pick his nose And wipe it on his clothes
But everybody cried The night that Kenny died Everybody cried The night that Kenny died
Died on a motorcycle We never understood That he was holdin' on tight Through the middle of the night Starin' at a [?]
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