Bananas Songtext
von Zen Baseballbat

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