He's Still Ratboy To Me
(To the tune of 'Still Rock-n-Roll To Me', by Billy Joel)

(By Mairead Triste, mtriste@hotmail.com)

What's the matter with the clothes he's wearing Don't you know that he lost his arm?
Maybe he should buy some cool attachments 'Cause a hook lends a certain charm.
Can't you tell from the many skills he's mastered- He's not a sorry kid, he's a triple-agent bastard- Everybody tries to make him look like Skippy, but he's still Ratboy to me.

What's the matter with the way he's living Don't you like that assassin's touch?
Do you try to justify his actions-
If you do, then you think too much.
Don't try to tell me that he gets sentimental- You'll enjoy it more if he's fucked up and mental- Pants snug,
Skinner-slug,
Violent, psychopathic thug-
He's still Ratboy to me.

Ohh-it doesn't matter how he got out of the silo, 'cause at least we know that he got free!
He's a cold-hearted guy, and he's devious and sly, and it doesn't take a genius to see-
Hey, he's an amputee!

How about a pair of handcuffs hanging
From his tight-fitting pair of pants?
He can really be a kinky little pervert If you just give him half a chance.
Don't you know he's not contrite, sad and whiny- All he really wants is to nail Mulder's hiney- Doomsday,
Underway,
Cute, sadistic emigré-
He's still Ratboy to me.

Everybody tries to make him look like Skippy, but he's still Ratboy to me.