Straight to Hell Songtext
von The Pogues

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