McBAIN, AN UNLIKELY NAME
was Sid, he played the guitar
Had too many girls, not enough cars
His parents said: "You'll never go far"
He proved them wrong of course - isn't life bizarre?
slow to grow beneath the flow
The flow of the high rise rent-a-kick tricks
Play now - we'll bill you later
Come meet our lovely denim-clad chicks
running out, you've got to decide to be well
Life in a padded darkened out cell
Or love in a wickered teepee beside the sea
Sid, my kid, come hear my plea
I need your thoughts, I'm up to my waist
In half-baked notions and grim distaste
Put me down a hole and boil me in blood
Remove my liver as you stamp in the mud
intestines - get to the good stuff
Bake my bladder - come prove you're tuff!
Glower power - the might of the scowl
The blue toned bitter slip of a weasel howl
The silver tongued son of a salesman
Phony funky phat sprat
You're my guy, not fly, a bit shy
But centred, in tune with my thoughts
groovy girl thing
Help me practice my lover boy swing
The one that makes all the ladies go wild
The one I do with Sid by my side
to main lyrics page
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