And, of course, possibly the ultimate song for Bad Taste:

THE BALLAD OF CHARLES WHITMAN

He was sitting up there for more than an hour
Way up there on the Texas Tower
Shooting from the twenty-seventh floor.
He didn't choke or slash or slit, man,
Not our Charles Joseph Whitman
He won't be an architect no more

Got up that morning calm and cool
He picked up his guns and walked to school
All the while he smiled so sweetly
And it blew their minds completely
They'd never seen an Eagle Scout so cruel

Now won't you think for the shame and degradation
For the school's administration
To put on such a bold and brassy show
The Chancellor cried, "It's adolescent
And of course it's most unpleasant
But I got to admit it was a lovely way to go"

There was a rumor about a tumor
Nestled at the base of his brain
He was sitting up there with his .36 Magnum
Laughing wildly as he bagged 'em
Who are we to say the boy's insane?

Now Charlie was awful disappointed
Else he thought he was anointed
To do a deed so lowdown and so mean
The students looked up from their classes
Had to stop and rub their glasses
Who'd believe he'd once been a Marine

Now Charlie made the honor roll with ease
Most all of his grades was A's and B's
A real rip snorting, trigger squeezer
Charlie proved a big crowd pleaser
Though he had been known to make a couple C's.

Some were dying, some were weeping
Some were studying, some were sleeping
Some were shouting, "Texas number one!"
Some were running, some were falling
Some were screaming, some were bawling
Some thought the revolution had begun.

The doctors tore his poor brain down
But not a snitch of illness could be found
Most folks couldn't figure just-a why he did it
And them that could would not admit it
There's still a lot of Eagle Scouts around

There was a rumor about a tumor
Nestled at the base of his brain
He was sitting up there with his .36 Magnum
Laughing wildly as he bagged 'em
Who are we to say the boy's insane?