Osullivan Gilbert - January Git Lyrics

I still believe in Sunday as being a day of rest And maybe it's because I'm an Irishman That I like Dublin best Still whose who are you to tell me I'm alright Fred But don't let that worry your son For when he grows up and gets blown out of here Have yourself A-tomic bomb Now introducing Maisie (Maisie) and on my right Will be Both of whom are here now represented by Our good friend U.V.I.P. Whose mundane conjectoral I'd recommend Only if you like rocking jazz Intermingled with an ounce of U double K full of eastern Raj Matazz Close your eyes and the door don't forge-t If you do I take it you know what to expect Still whose who are you to tell me I'm alright Fred but don't let that worry your son For when he grows up and gets blown out of here Have yourself a (really) Tour-de-force-a (yearly) non-de-plume A-tomic bomb Feeling tired one degree under Oh- What you need is picking up so off you go (Get picked up you know) Whose mundane conjectoral I'd recommend Only if you like rocking jazz Intermingled with an ounce of U double K Full of Eastern (promised) Without a doubting (Thomas) Polynesian Raj Matazz Nothing older than time nothing sweeter than wine Nothing physically, recklessly, hopelessly blind Nothing I couldn't say Nothing why 'cos today Nothing rhymed Osullivan Gilbert Lyrics January Git Lyrics