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You may have heard by now that PK Subban won Halloween forever by pulling off a perfect Michael Jackson's Thriller. His domination at the Habs Halloween party last night inspired me to write a parody song, sung to the tune of Thriller, about our new hockey overlord.
Enjoy!
[1st verse]
It’s close to gametime, something awesome’s lurking in the rink
Under the goal light, goalies see something that makes their heart sink
They try to save but his shot is too much for them to handle
They try to move but his deke freezes them right between the pipes,
They’re paralyzed!
[Chorus]
PK’s the Thriller, Thriller night
And no one’s going to stop him when he’s skating up the ice
PK’s the Thriller, Thriller night
You’re helpless as he burns you he’s the Thriller, Thriller, tonight
[2nd verse]
You hear the door slam, realize that he’s out of the box
You feel the cold sweat as he dekes you right out of your socks
You close your eyes and hope that this is just imagination, oh
But all the while, your corsi’s regressin’ below the line
Now you’re ridin’ pine!
[Chorus]
PK’s the Thriller, Thriller night
There ain’t no second chance seventy six is your demise, oh
Thriller, Thriller night
Blazin’ a trail from Rexdale PK’s the Thriller, Thriller, tonight
[Bridge]
There’s no escapin’ the dekes’ that he’s makin’ you’re on your knees
Your ankle’s broken you are just a token in his night (you’re on the losing side)
Your career’s end is nigh!
[3rd verse]
He’s out to get you, closing’ in as you cross the blue line
He will compress you, right up against that advertisement sign
Now is the time for you to limp back to your bench, yeah
All through the night, he’ll make you wish you played for his team
You’re getting’ creamed!
[Chorus]
PK’s the Thriller, Thriller night
PK can thrill you more than any player would dare try
Thriller, Thriller night
Giving nightmares to bad guys he’s the Thriller, Thriller
…he’s gonna thrill you tonight
Darkness falls across the land
The 19th hour is close at hand
PK crawls in search of goals
He scores them and shuts up all the trolls
And whosoever is so bold
To try and break his mighty soul
Must stand and face the booming shot
But soon you wish that you had not
The foulest stench is in the air!
The funk of 25 odd years!
It rots inside your feeble mind
That smell erupts from his behind
And though you fight to stay alive
Your body starts to shiver
For no mere mortal can resist
The power of the Thriller