GRASS
by
Jarmo [featuring Alan Titchmarsh]
But you just can't get your blobby body bumpin' to the beat
Don't blame it on the curse of being white and middle class
'Cos I've got just the ticket here to tackle that tight arse...
[Grass... ]
Go on - take a draw
[Grass...]
Why not have some more?
The smoke machine is hissing as the lasers slice the floor
And you stagger to the stage-side with the real hard-fucking-core
The DJ flicks the fader and he drops his half-smoked joint
You catch it coolly in your lips and wonder what's the point (of)
[Grass...]
Ah, one more lug
[Grass... ]
You ain't no mug
Your legs are going loopy but you really couldn't care
'Cos you feel like John Travolta (though you look like Lionel Blair)
Your brain turns into jelly as the room begins to bend
And someone asks you what you're on and what you'd recommend...
[Pot, acid, magic mushrooms - all of it is good] x 2
The stranger stares serenely like some blissful Buddhist monk
And offers you a drag of double-demon super-skunk
He watches with contentment as the sweet smoke fills your lung
Then smiles a knowing smile and mutters "my work here is done"
[Grass...]
You'd best beware
[Grass...]
When you're a square
Mere minutes later and you're floating into space
Atop a giant platypus with Britney Spears' face
Back on earth you're unaware some bouncer (name of Mick)
Just dragged you off the dancefloor through a pool of your own sick
[Grass...]
If you're boring, better take it slow
[Grass...]
Either that, or just say no
[Just a minute - boring? Me? Huh!] x 2
(c) Jarmo, 2003 - www.headpaste.com
Listen to Grass [featuring, probably unbeknown to him, Alan Titchmarsh]: download
MP3 (approx 2.8Mb)
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