Unrepentant Rolf Harris Writes “Vile” Song About His Victims From Jail

Rolf Harris, the Australian convicted paedophile has penned a disgusting song from inside his jail cell, accusing his victims of being money-grabbing mercenaries intent on robbing him of his money.

Rolf Harris, who is 84 years old, was convicted of targeting girls as young as 7 years old. However, he displays absolutely no remorse for the crimes he committed in his latest tune. Rather, he labels them “woodworms” who have “climbed up out of the woodwork from 40 years ago”.

His rant, which is deeply offensive and misogynistic, suggests that his assault victims “Perhaps.. think [they’re] pretty still, some perfumed sultry wench?”

The offending lyrics were part of a letter that Rolf Harris had sent to a friend from within Stafford Prison. Rolf Harris’ friend was so aghast at the lyrics that he immediately passed them on to the media.

Rolf Harris insists in the letter that he will record the song as soon as he is released from prison, assuming he will be given parole.

rolf harris offensive letter shaming victims from prison

If that wasn’t enough, the children’s entertainer speaks about the injustice of his imprisonment and boasts about how comfortable life is for him in prison.

Here are the full lyrics:

Climb up out of the woodwork babe

From forty years ago,

The climate’s great in Britain now

For making loads of dough

You’ve festered down there long enough,

Time’s right to grab your chance

Clap eyes on a rich celebrity

And make the bastard dance

Chorus

Make him squirm, slimy little woodworm

Make him squirm, squirm, squirm

Sink your claws right in to the hilt, don’t let him go

(Group) NO! NO!

Make him burn, burn, burn

Slimy little woodworm, make him burn

Get your fifty-years-old hooks into his dough

(Group) GO BABY GO

That old bandwagon you crawled out of

(rotten to the core)

Conceals a host of foul accusers,

Twenty maybe more

My guess is they’ll slide after you

All following your stench,

Perhaps you believe you’re pretty still

Some perfumed sultry wench

Chorus

“Make him squirm”

I can hear you singing

“Make him squirm, squirm, squirm”

Just imagine all of the money waiting there

(Group) OH YEAH!

Make him burn, burn, burn

Come and join the feeding frenzy girls,

Don’t miss out, come on and join me for your share

(Group) PUT IT THERE!