Hunters And Collectors Bettys Worry Or The Slab Lyrics

Bettys Worry Or The Slab Lyrics

I hear a little voice
And it comes whinging in over the sea of a thousand fat
faces
The little voice whinges for something loud and heavy
A little line
of beer running down his chinny-chin
Oh my god what a fat little skin
And
I smell something cooking
Something soft, something sweet
Something
completely ridiculous
In the beginning was the word
It come to scrape
away the shell-shock
And I says shake it, shake it, shake it
For another
five minutes
And we are blowing it up like shell-shock
And to this
fabulous waste
Come and deliver yourselves
I says come and eat up
something
Deliver yourselves
With wet cherries on a Blind Snake
Sundae
And to this fabulous waste
Come and deliver yourself
Oh come
and leave all your food lying down in the dust
And listen to the Cook-House
rock
I said listen to the Cook-House rock
Listen to it, listen to it,
listen
Listen to the Cook-House rock
I hear another little voice, same as
before
Except a little bit poorer and wasted
Whinging for something
loud
By god you're fat boy, fat
Beer dribbling down your weak little
chin
I will not let you in
And yes, again I smell something
cooking
Something small and weak
And completely ridiculous
And to this
fabulous waste
Come and deliver yourselves
I says come and clean up
something
Deliver yourself
With a wet cherry on a Blind Snake
Sundae
And to this fabulous waste
Come and deliver yourself
I says
leave all your food lying down in the dust
And listen to the Cook-House
rock
I says listen to the Cook-House rock
Listen to it, listen to it,
listen