Mr Blonde

Your situation is dire
You are bound to a table and a laser is just
About to cut you in half, and you must
Now prevent, and soon, lest you never will sire
A child of your own, so you talk to the villain
To listen to you and to stop all this killin‘
And you ask „Should I talk“, as the seconds tick by
„No, Mr Blonde, I expect you to die!“

Your situation is dire
You are bound to a rocket that is ready to start
And the girl here dying would just break your heart
As her beauty is something you really admire
And you use your watch to cut through the rope
And you say „Shall we go?“ but she shatters your hope
Aims a pistol at you, the traitor, so sly
„No, Mr Blonde, I expect you to die!“

Your situation is dire
You’re surrounded by mooks with automatic guns
But you dispose of them in a volley of puns
And hit them on their heads and evade their fire
And there is the villain, ready now to depart
From his crumbling lair, but you are too smart
And you catch him and hold him with glee in your eye
„The name’s Bond, you f***wad“, and then you let fly.

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