Karaoké Straight to Hell The Clash

If you can play on fiddle how's about a British jig and reel

Speakin' 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-sang

Take me home

See me got photo, photo, photograph of you and mama, mama, mama-sang

Of you and mama, mama

Mama-sang

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-sang

Please take me home

Oh papa-sang

Everybody they wanna go home

So mama-sang says

You wanna play mind-crazed banjo on the druggy-drag ragtime USA

In Parkland International

Hey

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-sang

Please take me home

Oh papa-sang

Everybody they wanna go home