Album: The Worst Of Kevin Bloody Wilson

Festival Of Light

Ah, the Festival of Life is "in' to save my fuckin' soul

They don't want me drinkin' piss or screwin' round no more

But they've got fuckin' Buckley's chance I'm giving you the score

Still the Festival of Life keeps tryin' to save my fuckin' soul



It's Saturday afternoon at last, it's what you've waited for all week

Relax and put the feet up, turn the footy on TV

You're expecting Vern and Bluey round, they'll probably stay all night

A coupla mates and a coupla beers - aw, Christ, this is the life



Well, here they are already, you just heard the car door slam

You wedge yourself out of your chair, get up to let 'em in

But it's some wanker that you've never met, with a briefcase in his hand

Some prick just out of Bible school, who thinks he's God's right hand



Halleluiah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah



Chorus



Ah, the Festival of life keeps tryin' to save my fuckin' soul

They don't want me drinkin' piss or screwin' round no more

But they've got fuckin' Buckley's chance I'm giving you the score

Still the Festival of Life keeps tryin' to save my fuckin' soul



'I'm Elder Robbins 'n' he's Elder Pike 'n' we'd like to talk to y'all

'Bout eternal salvation, won't take but a minute or more

We got a book we think y'aII should read, 'bout how y'all should live

My, what a charmin' home y'all have - y'all mind it we come in?'



'Well, I'd love t'invite yer in yer know, but the joint's a fuckin' mess

And there's an orgy ragin' in the lounge, and every cunt's undressed!

And I'd love yer to meet the missus, Shirl, but she's a bit crook in bed

She says she's got a real sore throat through givin' too much head!'



Gobblegobble, gobblegobble, gobblegobble



Repeat Chorus



All snuggled up on Sunday mornin' and you wake up with a horn

You grab the missus on the arse, oh, Christ she feels so warm

The scene is set, the mood's just right, you're about to slip it in

Then - (knock knock, knock) - there's that fuckin' door again!



'Good morning, sir, did I get you up?

Sorry, I'm David and this is Pam

We're missionaries who've come to talk of Man's eternal plan

And to discuss the holy future and reflect the holy past.'

So you flash your dick and scream 'I'll holy shove this up your arse!'



Up your arsehole, up your arsehole, up your arsehole



Repeat Chorus



Well it's not like it's just once or twice, it's every damn weekend

Now how d'ya think they'd like it if we done the same to them?

You know, turn up on their doorstep at a time they least expect

Try and ram our way of life down their fuckin' necks!



Just imagine for a minute the reception that you'd get

With a couple of stick books in your hand and a carton on the steps

And your missus chewin' chewin' gum in a really low-cut dress

And you in thongs and overalls-you know, your fuckin' Sunday best!



What a yobbo, what a yobbo, what a yobbo



Repeat Chorus



Gidday, we're pissed-up testecostacals, I'm Kevin and this is Shirl

We've come to introduce you cunts to a whole new fuckin' world

We've come to preach the good news, we think it's what you need to hear

We'll show you more fun in five minutes than you've had all fuckin' year!



Now You, sweetheart, you come with me and I'll teach you how to sin

And Sister Shirl, old sort, 'll suck your sav until your 'ead caves in~

Aw shit, your missus just fainted, so we won't bother comin' in

We'll just piss off back to our place-just drop ten bucks in the tin



'Nother carton, 'nother carton, 'nother carton



Repeat Chorus Twice