Bananas Lyrics

A table for three inner city lickers;

A sweaty back, bum slack, sun glass stripper

A fat knackered fire eater

With a burning scalp

A two toned, two faced peeling photogenic

Banged up in a sausage skin

And eats like a bucket

Where's the crapper?

They're ready to order

Ready to murder

A braison elephant paddling in batter

Two galloping gonads

And the next man's earlobes

Mines a grated brick

And a ballbuster special

Seasoned with a banana skin

My gastronomic exit

Fly there's not enough waiters in my soup

Soup

Two sore fingers in fluent anglo turd

Whitey downs his verse

What's for desserts?

A sombrero'd blancmange

Look at me snaps sunshine

His best belching punchline

That's me next to the camel

Full of eastern promise

Swallowing the waves

Of the Brit brick rules

Boiling in a pan

Of continental food

Swallowing the waves

Of the Brit brick rules

Boiling in a pan

Of continental food

Swallowing the waves

Of the Brit brick rules

Boiling in a pan

Of continental food

Fly