Give Me Graffiti, Baby

Top of the world!



Daddy says an oxo cube in the mash is flatland food

And no beard can be explained

Empty walls mean empty heads

And life is a runaway train



Give me graffiti, baby

Graffiti, Baby

Graffiti may save me from testing a nine volt battery on my tongue, yeah



What’s the story with suffering, surely (don’t call me Shirley)

There’s no let up on give

Where can you get a pizza faster than an ambulance?

Only in Ireland and where any Harlemites live



Give me graffiti, baby

Graffiti, Baby

Graffiti may save you one day from watering your Christmas tree, yeah



Ping pong

Bing bong



Lord Mayors and their wives on buy nothing day

The indelible art of sloganeers

Rose had a baby and the baby died

We don’t like your kind around here



Give me graffiti, baby

Sexy apoplexy

Apoplectic graffiti, baby

Graffiti may save you from the jumped up will to adhere, dear



Yes sir E Bob



All that guerrilla marketing, boys

All dressed up with an imagination and nowhere to go

Give me mindless pleading on behalf of the drug taking minorities

And red spray paint on the snow



Give me graffiti, baby

Graffiti, Baby

Graffiti may save you one day from the grave, you never now



[Inaudible]

The soul of revolt is here!