I once read a review of your little-known debut
Called 'Hercules Goes to New York'
They renamed you Arnold Strong, thinking it would help your career along
And over-dubbed the bits where you actually had to talk

It was your pectorals I suppose, which meant you were the one they chose
When a barbarian film was to be made
It became part of your contract that they’d only let you ‘act’
If, for at least ten minutes, your bare chest was displayed

You won Mr Universe by the time you were twenty
You were made for life before you made your first real movie
And perhaps this is what has meant that you have not
Had to sacrifice your artistic integrity

The tenacity with which you clung, to the genre from whence you sprung
Demonstrated a great sense of devotion
But then Terminator came your way, clearly the role you were born to play
A robot with no expressions or emotion

I know the words by heart, but it’s not hard because your part
Consisted of about twelve lines all throughout it
Yet everything you said, had the impact of hot lead
And there’s definitely a Pinter-esque quality about it

Arnie! Arnie!
You’re the reason I’m a connoisseur of small-arms weaponry
Arnie! Arnie!
You’re the reason I did press-ups for about a week (roughly)
And I still dream about the gun shop scene...

There's one thing I will contend, until the bitter end:
Commando is the best film ever made!
Not only does Arnie single-handedly wipe out an army
He only gets a scratch from a hand grenade

It is packed with one-line puns and a vast array of guns
And the subtleties in the script are many
He convincingly portrayed the caring father that he played
As can be heard every time he says: "Jenny!"

Arnie! Arnie!
You’re the reason I’m a connoisseur of small-arms weaponry
Arnie! Arnie!
You’re the reason I managed to make it through my puberty
And I still dream about the beach scene...

I had all your films on video, but I stopped collecting long ago
After Terminator 2 they were all shit
I don’t want your so-called comedies, or self-referential parodies
When you played a pregnant man it made me sick!

I feel cheated and dismayed that you have now betrayed
Everything for which you ever stood
Oh, whither the broadsword? And where’s the Nietzschean Ubër-lord?
You were once the living ideal of manhood!

I want androids and alien creatures, I want Uzi 9mms!
I want to see you in camouflage or at least dressed in black
I want to see people dying, so I hope that you weren’t lying
All those times that you promised... you’d be back