Bona Fide Treasure

Do-do-do, do-do-do-do
Do-do-do, do-do-do-do
Do-do-do, do-do-do-do
Do-do-do, do-do-do-do

Oh, the old man gathers up his suitcase and heads for the sun
Me, I'm looking for some bona fide treasure, and it's dumb, dumb, dumb
I'm telling you there's a palace for all the old souls
Build myself a motor out of matchsticks for the run, run, run, run, run

Run, rabbit, run
Give me two good reasons why you don't want me to come
I'm dying, can you help my ghost?
You're the cream of the crop with the cheese on the top of my toast

Do-do-do, do-do-do-do
Do-do-do, do-do-do-do
Do-do-do, do-do-do-do
Do-do-do, do-do-do-do

Roll up, roll up, there's some kind of news
You won't find me, lords and ladies
I'm not amused, I'm not amused
People come out laughing, raise a glass to the land
Try to buy some cover over here
I just want to lend a helping hand

Gimme, gimme, gimme that gun
I'll give you two good reasons why I don't want you to come
I'm dying, what will I become?
I'm the king of the park, with the queen on my back, and it's fun

Oh, follow me, follow me into the sun
And give me two good reasons why you never wanted to come
I'm dying, go get my gun
I'm the king of the park, with the queen on my back, and it's fun

Do-do-do, do-do-do-do
Do-do-do, do-do-do-do
Do-do-do, do-do-do-do
Do-do-do, do-do-do-do



Credits
Writer(s): Martin Victor Blunt, Jonathan Thomas Brookes, Timothy Burgess, Mark Vincent Collins, Anthony Paul Rogers
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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