Big Jesus Trash Can - The Birthday Party

Big-jesus soul-mates trash-can

Fucking rotten business this

Both feet in the bad-boot

Stiff in the crypt, babay, like a rock

Rock-rock-rock

Big-jesus soul-mates trash-can

And he pumped me fulla trash at least it smelt like trash

And he’s got greasy hair wears a suit of gold

But god gave me sex appeal

Right right

Well-well-well-rock

Well-well-well-rock

Well-well-well-rock

Well-well-well-rock

He drives a trash-can

He drives a trash-can

He drives a trash-can

He drives a trash-can

He’s comin’to my town

He’s comin’to my town

He’s comin’to my town

He’s comin’to my town rock-rock-rock-

R-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ck!

Right!

Big-jesus-oil-king down in texas

Drives great holy tanks of gold

Screams from heaven’s graveyard

American heads will roll in texas

Roll llike daddy’s meat

Roll under those singing stars of texas

Roll under those glorious singing stars of texas

Well-well-well-rock

Well-well-well-rock

Well-well-well-rock

Well-well-well-rock

He drives a trash-can

He drives a trash-can

He drives a trash-can

He’s comin’to my town

He drives a trash-can

He’s comin’to my town

He drives a trash-can

He’s comin’to my town

He drives a trash-can

He’s comin’to my town

He drives a trash-can