Straight to Hell
If you can play on the fiddle, how's about a British jig and reel? Speaking King's English in
quotations, 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. You wanna join in a of the
Amerasian blues? When it's Christmas out in Ho Chi Minh City kiddy say papa-papapapa-
papa-papa-san, take me home. See me got photo-photo-photograph of you of you and
mama mama mama-san... you and 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. Oh
papa-san, please take me home. Papa-san, everybody they wanna go home... and mamasan
says... You wanna play mind-crazed banjo on the druggy-drag ragtime USA? In
parkland international - HA - junkiedom USA... where procaine proves the purest rock
man groove... and rat poison... the volatile molotov says... ahhhh... ahhhh... straight to hell!
Can you really cough it up loud and strong? The immigrants... wanna sing all night long... It
could be anywhere, most likely any frontier, any hemisphere... no man's land... And there
ain't no asylum here. King Solomon never lived round here... Go straight to hell, boys... go
straight to hell boy... yeah
quotations, 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. You wanna join in a of the
Amerasian blues? When it's Christmas out in Ho Chi Minh City kiddy say papa-papapapa-
papa-papa-san, take me home. See me got photo-photo-photograph of you of you and
mama mama mama-san... you and 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. Oh
papa-san, please take me home. Papa-san, everybody they wanna go home... and mamasan
says... You wanna play mind-crazed banjo on the druggy-drag ragtime USA? In
parkland international - HA - junkiedom USA... where procaine proves the purest rock
man groove... and rat poison... the volatile molotov says... ahhhh... ahhhh... straight to hell!
Can you really cough it up loud and strong? The immigrants... wanna sing all night long... It
could be anywhere, most likely any frontier, any hemisphere... no man's land... And there
ain't no asylum here. King Solomon never lived round here... Go straight to hell, boys... go
straight to hell boy... yeah
Credits
Writer(s): Paul Simonon, Topper Headon, Mick Jones, Joe Strummer
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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