Lyrics
If you can play on fiddle How's about a British jig and reel? Oh, speaking King's English in quotation As railhead towns feel the steel mills rust Water froze in the generation
Clear as winter ice This is your paradise
There ain't no need for ya There ain't no need for ya Go straight to hell, boys Straight to hell, boys
You wanna join in a chorus Of the Amerasian blues? When it's Christmas out in Ho Chi Minh City Kiddie say, "Papa-papa-papa-papa-papa-san, take me home" See me got photo-photo-photograph of you And Mamma-mamma-mamma-san Of you and Mamma Mamma Mamma-san
Let me tell you 'bout your blood bamboo kid It ain't Coca-Cola, it's rice
Go straight to hell, boy Go straight to hell, boy Go straight to hell, boys Go straight to hell, boys Come on, we go now
You wanna play mind-crazed banjo, baby On the druggy-drag ragtime USA? Oh, in Parkland International Ha, as Junkiedom USA Where, baby, procaine proves the purest rock man groove And rat poison, the volatile Molotov says Huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh Huh, delicacy, delicacy
Straight to hell now Straight to hell, movin' There ain't no need for ya Just some more movin'
Can you cough it up loud and strong? The immigrants, they wanna sing all night long Whoa-whoa, it could be anywhere Most likely could be any frontier, any hemisphere, yeah
See, now we're in no man's land We're talking about an apology Talking about new frontier now
And don't forget But here we are, in a lonely town In 1991 Yeah, and you can't look there and shop real easy, boy and girl You get fuckin' shafted without recost on the benchmark Stayin' off to European bloodline And those people in tribes cryin' all nighttime Workin' with the soul behind And they said here's a ticket to the killing floor Don't ask for any more
They're saying the fact, straight to hell, boy Rub it up to the London punk rock Or go hell, to the acid house, house house, the techno house We're talking about day at the office And how can we not talking about the first men Oh, they all scream in the whirl word, the one thing You can't foget about your sis, kiss your justice off Same justice had post-guard marked, you are busted, baby That's the fact, Jack
Thou and to take me home Take me home beacause I heard a message on the international Robert Maxwell phone And he said, "Everybody, they wanna go homebound" He said everybody wanna go home
A rocka-rocka-rocket style