If you can play on 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 papa-san, take me home
See me, got photo, photo, photograph of you
And mama, mama, mama-san
Of you and mama mama mama-san
Let me tell ya 'bout your blood bamboo, kid
It ain't Coca-Cola, it's rice
Straight to hell, boy
Go straight to hell, boy
Go straight to hell, boys
Go straight to hell, boy
Oh, papa-san, please take me home
Oh papa-san, everybody, they wanna go home
So mama-san says
"You wanna play mind-crazed banjo
On the druggy-drag ragtime USA?
In Parkland International, hah, Junkiedom USA
Where Procaine proves the purest rock man groove and rat poison"
The volatile Molatov says
"Huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh
Huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, 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
There ain't no asylum here
King Solomon, he never lived 'round here
Straight to hell, boy
Go straight to hell, boy
Go straight to hell, boys
Go straight to hell, boys
Oh, papa-san, please take me home
Oh papa-san, everybody, they wanna go home now
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