Straight to Hell

If you can play on fiddle
How's about a British jig and reel?
Speaking King's English in quotation
As railhead towns feel the steel mills rust
Water froze
In the generation

Clear as winter ice
This is your paradise

There ain't no need for ya
There ain't no need for ya
Go straight to hell, boys
Go straight to hell, boys

Wanna join in a chorus of the Amerasian blues
When it's Christmas out in Ho Chi Minh City
Kiddie say, papa papa papa papa papa-san, take me home
See me, got photo, photo, photograph of you
And mama, mama, mama-san
Of you and mama mama mama-san

Let me tell ya 'bout your blood bamboo, kid
It ain't Coca-Cola, it's rice

Straight to hell, boy
Go straight to hell, boy
Go straight to hell, boys
Go straight to hell, boy

Oh, papa-san, please take me home
Oh papa-san, everybody, they wanna go home
So mama-san says

"You wanna play mind-crazed banjo
On the druggy-drag ragtime USA?
In Parkland International, hah, Junkiedom USA
Where Procaine proves the purest rock man groove and rat poison"
The volatile Molatov says
"Huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh
Huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, straight to hell"

Can you cough it up, loud and strong?
The immigrants, they wanna sing all night long
It could be anywhere, most likely could be any frontier
Any hemisphere
No man's land

There ain't no asylum here
King Solomon, he never lived 'round here

Straight to hell, boy
Go straight to hell, boy
Go straight to hell, boys
Go straight to hell, boys

Oh, papa-san, please take me home
Oh papa-san, everybody, they wanna go home now