Song parody of
Straight to Hell
by The Clash
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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
Go straight to hell boys
Why' want to 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
Mamma 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
Oh Papa-San
Please take me home
Oh Papa-San
Everybody they want to go home
So Mamma-San says
You want to 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-
Pssst...
Hey Chico we got a message for ya...
Vamos vamos muchacho
From alphabet city all the way a to z, dead, head
Go straight to hell
Can you really cough it up loud and strong
The immigrants
They want to 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
Go straight to hell boys
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
Go straight to hell boys
Why' want to 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
Mamma 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
Oh Papa-San
Please take me home
Oh Papa-San
Everybody they want to go home
So Mamma-San says
You want to 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-
Pssst...
Hey Chico we got a message for ya...
Vamos vamos muchacho
From alphabet city all the way a to z, dead, head
Go straight to hell
Can you really cough it up loud and strong
The immigrants
They want to 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
Go straight to hell boys
