Excuse my sullen spew But I've got half a mind to split my skull in two Oh, lucky me, the 10:03 is pulling through I guess I'll lay my head down on the rail On second thought I'll pass And seek salvation at St. Lucy's midnight mass Where I shall contemplate the Virgin Mary's Assumption into Heaven - what a tale
Oh, symphony of smut Rotten crops and squatter huts Rheumy eyes, cramped guts And though your shanty shades are shut The Lord will watch you while you rut Oh, God, you naughty sod Tut, tut, tut
Like putty in my mitts The brainy beauties all line up to do the splits Their lads are cads, and I am dripping with dry wit A bookworm bird will drool for something droll And I love the wild chases That follow pinching subway cops in nether places I grab a ham and wham, it's off to the races Till I'm caught and cuffed and plunged in some dark hole
Oh, symphony of smut Rotten crops and squatter huts Rheumy eyes, cramped guts And though your shanty shades are shut The Lord will watch you while you rut Oh, God, you naughty sod Tut, tut, tut
If you travel to my hovel Please wear a wig betwixt your legs, I beg and grovel For I've been working on my great merkin novel It's a dark and twisted yarn told with panache But my spine is going slack And I keep dreaming of a gleaming iron track On second second thought, I want that train to smack my brain And scatter it so scavengers can nosh
Oh, symphony of smut Rotten crops and squatter huts Rheumy eyes, cramped guts And though your shanty shades are shut The Lord will watch you while you rut Oh, God, you naughty sod Tut, tut, tutTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
