Feast Of The Mau Mau

Scoop the eye from a fly, flying backwards. Take the jaws and the balls off the moon. Take your time, high-line, for good cooking. Because the rest of this mess ain't good looking. Take the fleas from the knees of our demons.

Tell your powers that the kids will come screaming but the beast of the mama's. They make wine from the spine of their blow-the-holes. The dancing on my days! It's a test for the best for whose days.

At the peace, it's your chief, for the peace of a goose-toned. At the depths, still the breath of a drug in jail. Pull the skin off your friend with a razor blade. Intermate, chase tomorrow, and break back yesterday.

Shake your hip, bite your lip, and suit your mother-in-law. Put on your gorilla suit, drink some elbow soup, And have a ball, get it straight, don't be late. It's time for mad fun, take off your shoes, they cook onions too, they have really begun.

Man, they blow the hooks, they dance the romance for 90 days, the best of the task for who stays. Have the feast, put the beast in here. Yes, have a good time, have a good time.

Have a good time. Have a good time.