Holida in Cambodia Songtext
von Foo Fighters
Holida in Cambodia Songtext
So, you′ve been to school
For a year or two
And you know you've seen it all
In daddy′s car
Thinking you'll go far
Back east your type don't crawl
Playing ethnicky jazz
To parade your snazz
On your five-grand stereo
Braggin′ that you know
How the niggers feel cold
And the slum′s got so much soul
It's time to taste what you most fear
Right Guard will not help you here
Brace yourself, my dear
Brace yourself, my dear
It′s a holiday in Cambodia
It's tough, kid, but it′s life
It's a holiday in Cambodia
Don′t forget to pack a wife
You're a star-belly snitch
You suck like a leech
You want everyone to act like you
Kiss ass while you bitch
So you can get rich
While your boss gets richer off you
Well, you'll work harder
With a gun in your back
For a bowl of rice a day
Slave for soldiers
′Till you starve
Then your head is skewered on a stake
Now you can go where the people are one
Now you can go where they get things done
What you need, my son...
What you need, my son...
Is a holiday in Cambodia
Where people are dressed in black
A holiday in Cambodia
Where you′ll kiss ass or crack
Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot
Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot
Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot
Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot
Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot
It's a holiday in Cambodia
Where you′ll do what you're told
It′s a holiday in Cambodia
Where the slums got so much soul
Pol Pot
For a year or two
And you know you've seen it all
In daddy′s car
Thinking you'll go far
Back east your type don't crawl
Playing ethnicky jazz
To parade your snazz
On your five-grand stereo
Braggin′ that you know
How the niggers feel cold
And the slum′s got so much soul
It's time to taste what you most fear
Right Guard will not help you here
Brace yourself, my dear
Brace yourself, my dear
It′s a holiday in Cambodia
It's tough, kid, but it′s life
It's a holiday in Cambodia
Don′t forget to pack a wife
You're a star-belly snitch
You suck like a leech
You want everyone to act like you
Kiss ass while you bitch
So you can get rich
While your boss gets richer off you
Well, you'll work harder
With a gun in your back
For a bowl of rice a day
Slave for soldiers
′Till you starve
Then your head is skewered on a stake
Now you can go where the people are one
Now you can go where they get things done
What you need, my son...
What you need, my son...
Is a holiday in Cambodia
Where people are dressed in black
A holiday in Cambodia
Where you′ll kiss ass or crack
Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot
Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot
Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot
Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot
Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot
It's a holiday in Cambodia
Where you′ll do what you're told
It′s a holiday in Cambodia
Where the slums got so much soul
Pol Pot
Writer(s): Jello Biafra, Ray East Bay, Klaus Flouride, Bruce Slesinger Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com