Idioma Origen:
If you can play on the fiddle
How's about a British jig and reel?
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
Go straight to hell boys
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-san take me home
See me got photo photo photograph of you and Mmma Mamma Mamma-san
Of you and Mamma Mamma Mamma-san
Lemme tell ya 'bout your blood bamboo kid
It ain't Coca-Cola it's rice
Straight to hell boys
Go straight to hell boy
Go straight to hell boy
Go straight to hell boy
Oh Papa-san, please take me home
Oh Papa-san, everybody they wanna go home
So Mamma-san says
You wanna play mind-crazed banjo
On the druggy-drag ragtime U.S.A.
In Parkland International
Hah! Junkiedom U.S.A.
Where procaine proves the purest rock man groove and rat poison
The volatile Molatov says:
Psst, chico, we gotta message for ya
Si, vamos, vamos, muchachos
Heh heh heh heh
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Straight to hell
Can you cough it up loud and strong
The immigrants they wanna sing all night long
It could be anywhere most likely could be any frontier
Any hemisphere
No man's land
And there ain't no asylum here
King Solomon he never lived round here
Straight to hell boys
Go straight to hell boy
Go straight to hell boys
Go straight to hell boys
***
Idioma Destino:
If you can play on the fiddle
How's about a British jig and reel?
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
Go straight to hell boys
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-san take me home
See me got photo photo photograph of you and Mmma Mamma Mamma-san
Of you and Mamma Mamma Mamma-san
Lemme tell ya 'bout your blood bamboo kid
It ain't Coca-Cola it's rice
Straight to hell boys
Go straight to hell boy
Go straight to hell boy
Go straight to hell boy
Oh Papa-san, please take me home
Oh Papa-san, everybody they wanna go home
So Mamma-san says
You wanna play mind-crazed banjo
On the druggy-drag ragtime U.S.A.
In Parkland International
Hah! Junkiedom U.S.A.
Where procaine proves the purest rock man groove and rat poison
The volatile Molatov says:
Psst, chico, we gotta message for ya
Si, vamos, vamos, muchachos
Heh heh heh heh
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Straight to hell
Can you cough it up loud and strong
The immigrants they wanna sing all night long
It could be anywhere most likely could be any frontier
Any hemisphere
No man's land
And there ain't no asylum here
King Solomon he never lived round here
Straight to hell boys
Go straight to hell boy
Go straight to hell boys
Go straight to hell boys
***