@(transcribed by $t. @ndrew) Achmed laid the Tigers in the bed and the kitten in the kitchen, set at Ramadan. He takes a stick and beats her 'round the legs, tear the diamonds from her navel, dress her in the blackest rags, send her weeping to the shed 'till the feelings got too strong. He was longing for a feel again - the fleshy mountains, just enough to hide behind, melt himself away... From the flying bullets - from the crying sirens... The (bat) of chevrolets on every street, in every corner, two bit sweetmeats meet the sweetest girls in cafes but the coffee's bitter, the cigarettes are vile. Smile the poisons in [...] the flakes of bland inbetween the teeth now (yellow brown). The sun bakes like the pusher in the corner who waits and waits to take his money, spends it, tells the tale... Another yankee in the jail, another movie, one more headline... one more headline... (repeats 3x more)
Heads lying in the water and the eyes are dead. Blood drained away now flowing in the veins of a pimp who parades a mile of flesh. It's delightful, it's an eyeful, it's a mouthful... (it's also very fat) Roll it up and lick it, squeeze it, roll it up and use again, again, again, swallow! swallow! Let me up, keep me warm, I use you again and again... Wrap me up i'll use you again and again.. Again and again! (wrap me up i'll use you again and again)