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Babybird

King Bing

 

King Bing

(альбом: Ugly Beautiful - 1996)


Oh, you ugly beautiful thing
Oh you, oh you, oh you
You ugly beautiful thing I'm in between your head and your sting
Unfolding out your wings one by one till you sing like king bing, you
Oh, you beautiful thing I'm in-between the ball beat ball of the king
Holding out no cheques, drinking Castrol not Becks
Plugging in TV flex into my kecks
I dare you to change the fucking channel now!... puts

Ugly beautiful thing I'm between your head and your sting
Whirling out your wings one by one till you sing like king king bing!
Ugly beautiful thing how I sing with your plastic wing on the tips of my broken wing
Oh, I'm so shy when you ride up so high and I cry because I can see the possibility that you might one day die
Oh baby, cool you know that thing, that thing you do that I love
You keep doing it, doing it, doing it, and I can't get over that thing
That thing that you keep, keep doing, doing it, doing it, doing it drives me mad
I love it, do it, do it, do it, do it, ah ah ah...

Calm down, son, sing the fucker like a baby
Yeah mom, I'm bad
You ain't a bad son, son, you're a fucking king
You're the son of god, you're mine, I'm Mary, I made you
I forgive you baby, come to mummy

Butt-a-bing butt-a-bang, butt-a-bing butt-a-boom boom boom
Butt-a-bing butt-a-bang, butt-a-bing butt-a-boom boom boom
Butt-a-bing butt-a-bang, butt-a-bing butt-a-boom boom boom
Butt-a-bing butt-a-bang, butt-a-bing butt-a-boom boom bang

King, the word king
Son, I call you a king, you ain't Paul King, you're the king

Ugly beautiful thing I'm between your head and your sting whirling out your wings one by one
Until you sing like a king bing
Ugly beautiful thing butt-a-bing, butt-a-boom
You ain't butter, you ain't harry, you ain't even the artist formerly known as prince
Ah, ah, ah, you're a king, you're a king, you're a king, you're a king!
Ugly beautiful thing, ugly beautiful thing...

See what all that means is that blue is really yellow
You grow old, you mellow, orange turns you on
It's rust, it's things rotting
It's Mike and the Mechanics doing Celine Dion doing sting
Fony give away a hundred thousand CDs to virgin, our price and all HMVs
Wish I'd thought of it, it's so cool
It's music for thick people, lowest common denomination
All hidden under the steeple, roof tiles and a hatch with weeds
Big tits and tight behinds
A guy on the hatch improvise and men who stack singles for £1.99
Get the fucker in the chart, charge £3.99
Take a cut off the supplier, off the artist, off the public, off the quick to buy and slow to think
Hey, that's why, you know I know
When will people realise that if you put shit on the dance set and spin it at 45 rpm, 120 bpm, you'll still hear it stink?
I'm out of here, whatever, amen

Ba da da, ba da da, ba da da
Yeah yeah, yeah, yeah...

You ugly beautiful thing, you ugly beautiful thing, you ugly beautiful thing
You ugly beautiful thing, you ugly beautiful thing, you ugly beautiful thing
You ugly beautiful thing, you ugly beautiful, beautiful, ugly, ugly, beautiful, ugly, ugly, beautiful, beautiful, ugly, beautiful, ugly, ugly, beautiful, ugly, beautiful, ugly, beautiful thing...

Oh, I'm getting into Jamiroquai territory now man
Fucking stop it dead now
Shut the drummer up, shove it up the arse!
Saxophone fuck off!
Yeah, be bop be lula, be bop boo, yeah
Wiggy wiggy whack whack
Wiggy wiggy whack whack
Wiggy wiggy wiggy wiggy wiggy wiggy whack
Whack whack wiggy wiggy
Whack whack wiggy wiggy
Wig wig wig wig wig wig whack
Bad jazz for white folks' assholes

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