Testo di Fitzpleasure

Tralala, trala, tra-la, la Tralala, trala, tra-la, la Tralala, trala, tra-la, la Tralala, trala, tra-la, la In your snatch fits pleasure, a broom-shaped pleasure Deep greedy and googling every corner Dead in the middle of the C-O-double M-O-N Little did I know then that the Mandela Boys soon become Mandela Men Tall woman, pull the pylons down And wrap them around the necks of all the feckless men that queue to be the next Steepled fingers Ring leaders Queue jumpers Rock, fist, paper, scissors Lingered fluffers (The choir) In your hoof lies the heartland Where we tent for our treasure, pleasure, leisure Les yeux, it’s all in your eyes In your snatch fits pleasure, a broom-shaped pleasure Deep greedy and googling every corner Tralala, trala, tra-la, lalalalalalala Oh, blinded by the lights