a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

nana never farted - kevin bloody wilson lyrics

it was a family tradition, first sunday every month,
mom and dad and all us kids go round to nan and pop’s for lunch,
and while pop was gettin’ p-ssed we’d chase the dog around the
house,
nan’d be in the kitchen cookin’, with a f-g end in her mouth,
you’d hear her coughin’ and splutterin’ as she rattled them pots and
pans,
ex-shearer’s cook, rough as guts, but she sure could cook our nan,
’cause her tucker was tops in spite’a the sweat and dribble on her
chin,
and the occasional cigarette ash or drop’a dribble drippin’ in,
then she’d holler, “come and get it”, bangin’ her fry pan with her
ladle,
and us kids’d run to grab a chair as the dog settled under the table,
and pop’d be three parts p-ssed as he said the non-believer’s grace,
“jesus mary joseph kiss my -ss and lick my plate”,
then nan’d dish out the veggies, giant serves for everyone,
and you could smell the boiled cabbage, yet she never served us
none,
but that cabbage smell got stronger, the closer than nana got,
and pop’d give the dog a kickin’, every time that nana coughed.

’cause nana never farted she just coughed a lot,
and no matter where us kids all hid we always copped the lot,
and pop the true blue gentleman always blamed the poor ol’ dog,
“go’n get”,
’cause nana never farted she just coughed a lot.

was that dog just dumb or stupid? or was he really extra smart?
’cause he knew it wasn’t him at all that was doin’ all that fartin’,
but he just laid there ‘neath the table gulpin’ down the food that
dropped,
pick’a them scr-ps were worth the kickin’, that’s how good nan’s
tucker was,
but it all come to her head, one sunday when the local vicar dropped
by,
pop was so p-ssed he invited him in, “here squat your -ss next to
mine”,
and as nan served up an extra plate she’d give a nervous little
cough,
pop just casually lift the table cloth said “go on dog, f-ck off”,
see nan weren’t quite used to havin’ real flash dinner guests like this,
and a nervous little cough turned into a full on coughin’ fit,
and she become so fl-stered she swallowed her red hot lit f-g end,
and every time she cough and spluttered pop’d kick the dog again,
that dog was barkin’ us kids were laughin’ nana’s face was turnin’
blue,
and toxic smell’a boiled cabbage was suffocatin’ all the room,
then pop threw himself on nana, “everyone out’a the kitchen quick,
and take the f-ckin’ dog with ya before she splatters him with sh-t”.

no nana never farted she just coughed a lot,
and no matter where us kids all hid we always copped the lot,
and pop the true blue gentleman always blamed the poor ol’ dog,
“go’n get”,
’cause nana never farted she just coughed a lot.

nana never farted she just coughed a lot.

no nana never farted she just coughed a lot.

- kevin bloody wilson lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular