| Articles
Artwork Big Gig DAAS Kapital Downloads Links >> Lyrics Merchandise Pictures |
It's A Business.
Cos it's a business, a business, a funny business this is.
We've got wealth beyond our dreams well above the average means.
We bought a military cruiser to go bomb half of Noosa.
Cos we're arrogant and blasphemous.
Cos it's a business, a business, a funny business this is.
We got this lovely letter from a girl, we'd never met her.
Cos it's a business, a business, a funny business this is.
You're short for cash, you lost at cards but you're not in the Allstars.
Our morals are elastic, as manuable as plastic.
It's Hard To Be A Woman.
Behind my back I can hear them all laughing,
It's hard, so hard to be a woman,
Well I was short changed at the counter,
In this grand game of cards that we're playing,
It's hard, so hard to be a woman,
It's Tim.
He's married, he's got children,
While other politicians,
I'm gorgeous, I'm beautiful,
It's Tim, It's Time for him,
I Wanna Spill The Blood Of A Hippie.
Then I saw her - with a poster of Hendrix on her wall,
I want to spill the blood of a hippie,
When the moon is in the seventh house,
We've had enough of farting vegetarians,
I say no more - lentil burgers, sandalwood and peace,
I want to spill the blood of a hippie,
I say no more- "Alicke when she's ten foot tall",
I want to spill the blood of a hippie,
Jack.
What are your hands, Jack?
Failed the test,
Hands jack, look at your hands, Jack.
Failed the test,
Failed the test,
Failed the test,
Richard's part
Gotta cut the line,
Joan Of Arc.
There was a bone of contention about her gender.
I think I love her, cos she's hot.
They put her on the boil just like a lobster.
Johnny Boy.
What a man, what a martyr,
You slaved away for years, amidst the jibes, amidst the jeers.
What a bloke, keen as mustard,
Men and women of Australia, old Johnny didn't fail you.
You're a battler, you're a thinker,
Punk's Not Dead.
Punk's not dead,
First kid was born they went and named him Sid.
Punk's not dead,
Push And Shove Love.
Push, push and shove love,
The apostles were the happy crew,
Simon Peter was a speed freak,
James the son of Zebedee and James the other one.
Philip was on amphetamines,
Push, push and shove love,
Rhino Songs.
Bow down before the mighty rhino,
Rhinos!
Hey, brother! Two horns: One horn for honking brother, one horn for bonking brother!
We are full of poise and propriety,
Ride The Big Cock (Ode To A Rooster).
To the victor go the spoils we're through with Earthly toils.
Of working hard of pushing lard and tuning over soil.
Now we aren't very funny but we've made a lot of money,
Invested well so go to Hell,
Piss off run back to mummy.
Greed is good you know you should,
Get into Earthly riches.
If you've got it rough then go get stuffed,
You just don't make the team.
So don't hang 'round you'll bring us down,
No one likes a loser.
We're crude and rude and infamous.
Sold our soul to rock 'n' roll - we'll pay the Pope to say Mass for us.
Greed is good you know you should,
Get into Earthly riches.
You've got cash enough but that can't buy love,
We thought no, but then sex is always better.
So watch out here come the young bucks and love, well it sucks.
Don't be rash if you've got the cash you'll always get the best.
Greed is good you know you should,
Get into Earthly riches.
You're all the same go on complain you whinging Aussie bastards.
We won the Melbourne Cup boys,
Toriffic came up trumps boys Frank Sinatra got the part,
Would you like a bit of rump, boys?
Greed is good you know you should,
If you don't then you're a spastic.
It's a curse but much worse,
Is the sorrow,
Of this shadow that haunts my life.
I'd be the last to complain,
But this feeling remains,
That somehow I just don't fit in at all, sort of- DAMN IT!
Alone at home it makes me depressed,
So I'll scrape off my makeup,
Kick off my high heels,
And slip sadly out of my dress.
But I'm doing the best that I can,
Yes it's hard, so hard to be a woman,
When you're trapped in the body of a man.
And my husband cannot understand,
How the wife that he married in a pure wedding gown,
Turned out to be the best man.
I got a bad hand so it seems,
The cards were stacked,
And I got the Jack,
When I should've been dealt the Queen.
But I'm doing the best that I can,
Yes it's hard, so hard to be a woman,
When you're trapped in the body of a man.
Men and women of Kooyong,
It's come time to rejoice.
It's no longer black and white,
You've finally got a choice.
Vote one Ferguson,
We want to hear your voice.
It's Tim, It's Time for him,
It's Tim, It's Time for him.
He's got good looking legs.
He can control his family,
He's never lost his dacks (hey Malcolm).
He's not afraid of crying,
No he knows just where it's at.
It's Tim, It's Time for him.
Pass the buck and fill their glasses.
Bending over backwards,
Trying to kiss each other's arses.
He will be out on the street,
Giving it to the middle classes.
It's Tim, It's Time for him,
It's Tim, It's Time.
I'm another JFK.
I'm smarter than Dan Quail,
I'm not Black, unemployed,
Straight, Bi, or gay.
When I left Margaret Thatcher,
She was begging me to stay.
It's Tim, It's Time.
It's Tim, It's Time for him.
It's Tim, It's Time for him,
It's Tim, It's Time.
I had a date at eight with a girl called Fleur,
I had to meet her parents,
What a trip, trip, trip.
They offered me a joint, a cup of miso soup,
And some tofu magic mushrooms,
Oh how hip, hip, hip.
I saw her - change from a school dress and into a sarong,
I saw her - say cool, dig it and like wow,
I sawed her in half, I can't tell which piece I want.
I'm eager to stone a stoned child from the sixties.
I want a switchblade to cut their lovebeads,
An enema, enema, enema, not love
Is what the world needs now.
And Jupiter lines up with Mars,
The peace will guide the planets,
And love will see the stars.
Open up their mouths and feed them MEAT MEAT MEAT!
Get all the buskers, dole bludgers and the hippies,
Back on the crack and off the STREET STREET STREET!
No more - tiger balm, it's burning my balls.
And the hippie in my house,
He drives me mad.
He wouldn't be so bad if he was someone else's dad.
I'm eager to stone a stoned child from the sixties.
I want a switchblade to cut their lovebeads,
Genocide genocide genocide, not Genesis (YUCK!)
Is what the world needs now.
No more- "Blowing in the wind" or "I shall be released".
There's a hippie in my house he drives me mad,
He wouldn't be so bad if he was someone else's dad.
I'm eager to stone a stoned child from the sixties.
I want a switchblade to cut their peenies,
An enema, enema, enema, not love
Is what the world needs now.
(transcribed with the assistance of Mel.)
What are your hands, Jack?
Black from the coal.
What is your back, Jack?
Snapped and cracked from digging it, digging it.
Watch that soul.
Black from the coal.
What is your back, Jack?
Snapped and cracked from digging it, digging it.
Watch that soul.
Need to rest (hands Jack).
I'm all messed up in a trusted wreck.
Failed the test,
Need to rest (look at your hands, Jack).
I'm all messed up in a trusted wreck.
Failed the test,
Need to rest (hands Jack).
I'm all messed up in a trusted wreck (black from the coal).
Failed the test,
Need to rest (what is your back, Jack).
I'm all messed up in a trusted wreck.
(snapped and cracked from diggin' it, diggin' it, watch that soul).
Need to rest (hands Jack).
I'm all messed up in a trusted wreck (black from the coal).
Failed the test,
Need to rest (what is your back, Jack).
I'm all messed up in a trusted wreck.
(snapped and cracked from diggin' it, diggin' it, watch that soul).
Need to rest (hands Jack).
I'm all messed up in a trusted wreck (black from the coal).
Failed the test,
Need to rest (what is your back, Jack).
I'm all messed up in a trusted wreck.
(snapped and cracked from diggin' it, diggin' it, watch that soul).
Need to rest (hands Jack).
I'm all messed up in a trusted wreck (black from the coal).
Failed the test,
Need to rest (what is your back, Jack).
I'm all messed up in a trusted wreck.
(snapped and cracked from diggin' it, diggin' it).
Watch that soul.
Help me father,
Jack fell down,
When the shaft caved in.
Danger strikes.
Help me father,
There he falls (alternates - 'goes'. He says 'watch that soul' in last verse.)
She was gifted in warfare, sweet as a sparrow.
Bom bom bom bom bom bom bom.
Her sword was true, her faith her armour.
Bom bom bom bom bom bom bom.
Oh Joan Of Arc, Joan Of Arc,
Joan Of Arc, Oh Joan Of Arc.
Was she male or female, or some weird hybrid,
We dare not mention.
Where did the dominant genitals prevail?
Was the Maid of Orlèans a man they made.
Oh Joan Of Arc, Joan Of Arc,
Joan Of Arc, Oh Joan Of Arc.
I think I want her, quite a lot.
And it's a pity that she's not alive.
Bom bom bom bom bom bom bom.
And cooked her up in a suit of tin,
Tin tin tin tin tin tin tin.
Oh Joan Of Arc, Joan Of Arc,
Joan Of Arc, Oh Joan Of Arc.
He's a prince, a champ, a swami,
With his own private army.
He's fought for the rights of every man, woman and child.
He took the cash and did the dash,
But no-one knows where he hid the stash.
Fredrick's made a dime on the inside.
What a clever little bugger.
But they always take away your pride and joy.
They took Nelson Mandela and that Martin Luthor fella,
Now they're trying to take away our Johnny Boy.
For your brilliance and your crime you'll take a beating.
You're the Ned Kelly of the nineties, Australia's Ronnie Biggs.
We'd all be rich if you'd swap places with Paul Keating.
What a smart assed little bastard.
His arrest was a fraud, a farce, a ploy.
They shot JFK and Gandhi and found Marilyn in her undies,
Now they're trying to take away our Johnny Boy.
When the kids ask just say he's gone for a spell, a bit of a stretch.
You know, they said you'd never make it, John, but you finally came through.
And for all the banks you ripped off, this one's just for you.
You're a great Australian drinker.
If the NSD is Helen, then you're Troy.
Well you've found a place to stay between Pentridge and Long Bay.
Yeah, you've finally found a home, Johnny Boy.
1, 2, 3. Tore my top, ripped my nipple with a sardine tin.
She pierced his ear and pierced his heart with a rusty safety pin. OI!
So he pierced his nose with a fishing hook to get that fibrillated look,
But that was way back when they both knew how to live,
Now he's go three nostrils and she's got more holes than a sieve.
But it's certainly aging fast.
Trying to die a death,
That lives up to it's past.
Needs a walking frame to get around,
Pace maker for it's heart,
Punk's not dead.
They're just boring old farts!
Had a set of leather nappies, and they bottle fed him tin. OI!
His bouncy net was lined with studs, his first dog a bull terrier.
But now he's a conservative and he looks like,
He looks like a Noel Ferrier.
A Noel Ferrier.
A Noel Ferrier?
Not the Noel Ferrier?
No, a Noel Ferrier.
But it's certainly aging fast.
Trying to die a death,
That lives up to it's past.
Needs a walking frame to get around,
Pace maker for it's heart,
Punk's not dead.
They're just boring old farts!
Catholic girls on LSD,
Love nuns to have bad habits.
Protestant chicks get their kicks,
From downing Mummy's tablets.
Almost everyone's on the trip these days,
I'm not selling nothing.
Love's the only drug I'm pushing.
Down your throat.
Push, push and shove love,
Down your throat.
And Jesus was the dealer.
They got high on living life,
As heaven got much nearer.
They said "Oh!", they said "Oh no!".
Philate was one too.
Matthew and Mark, Luke and John,
All high from sniffing glue.
Matthew was a publican,
He was downing eighty shilling.
Thadeus dropped some angel dust,
And man he made a killing.
They said "Oh!", they said "Oh no!".
Drank some Bex and dropped some X,
And found synthetic love.
Thomas was a doubter,
Put his finger in the wounds.
Bartholomew watched it all,
Spaced out on mushrooms.
They said "Oh!", they said "Oh no!".
And turned into a priest.
In a garden of Gethsemanes,
On Valium they fell asleep.
Judas tried to kick the habit,
Blood money for a loudmouth.
But he wound up as we found out,
All hung up and strung out.
Down you throat.
Push, push and shove love,
Down you throat.
Push! Shove!
Proudly let the Rhinos bray,
Dum-dum-da-ra!
Dum-dum-da-ra!
Loudly now our hooves are pounding.
(Dum-dee Dee-dee-dee-dee)
Prostrate yourself upon the lino.
(ta-ra!) I am a Rhino!
(ta-ra!) I am a Rhino!
Rhinos!
My mates and brothers would do anything for me,
When they see that I am horny!
We are very noisy for a secret society!
Some stories sink without trace,
In the pretty heart.
Stone dead at the gate,
Before they even start.
They saw a something move,
Ghostly in the dark.
The head of some foul tempest,
That could tear your guts apart.
Ride the big cock (whispered Rodger)
Then it welled up like a tidal wave,
Until nothing could get passed.
An Awe-inspiring vision,
As Moses gripped his staff.
All we get are red rags,
Tiled onto his mast.
But the ocean is a victim,
So she soon begins to Part.
Ride the Big cock. (Rodger, Rodger over and out).
I found my soul staring down,
The eye of the storm.
Vulgur in it's fur coat,
Nestling in the warmth.
Twisted eyes with hatchet head,
And soiled skin that turned to bone.
It moved rough against the world,
As its mouth began to foam.
Nothing could stop it,
It sodomised the Earth.
Spilt seed in luscious forests,
That cropp'd and then gave birth.
Then towards the moon it turns,
With it's one unblinking eye.
Spies the object of desire,
And spits across the sky.
(Chorus Ad Nauseam and mumbles of "Rodger, Rodger me!")