Silly Ol' Mate - King Parrot

Hobbling out the back, looking for a gun

Pack of Winnie blues and the Bundaberg rum

Voices in my head, from ripping on the bong

Victims in the shed in the 40 gallon drum

Tripping of my head, sucking on the citric

Silly ol' mate out sitting in the pig shit

Hammer in the veins, hallucinating mind

A forty pack of bulbs and a Stanley cask of wine

I’ll stab you in the face if you come around to mine

I’ll stab you in the face if you come around to mine

Silly ol' mate got his head on the block

The old blunt axe, one big chop

Silly ol' mate got his head in the dirt

Educate a guess, slaving to the grind

The parrot spreads his wings, the parrot learns to fly

It’s a disaster, straight into the window glass

You can’t fly faster, old King Parrot, broken bastards

Silly ol' mate got his head on the block

The old blunt axe, one big chop

Silly ol' mate got his head in the dirt

The old magpie gets eyes for dessert

Silly ol' mates got a lesson not learnt

That’s the reason silly ol' mate got burnt

The deal gets better when it ends in death

Silly ol' mate got blood on his breath

The moral to the story is the king of the parrots knows best