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Clash, The Vol. 1-story Of The Clash Straight To Hell 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 Y'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-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 wanna go home So mamma-san says You wanna 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 wanna 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 |
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