DESCRIPTION:
From Pinky Nackybal's album 'Ballet Slappers'. Video from "Clew Bay Crusoe" by Flaxie O'Hehir.
Lyricals: Better get yourself and your brain in a good mood, better shut up and think big. And enter the demimonde of a buttercoloured honey girl and the puffy souffle of a bulletheaded fat man's wig. I was so upset when I heard about it I actually did give myself a headache. I heard the bells of King Nicotine ringing in the heavens and her stomach on a stretcher groaning, 'Call a paramedic!' It's a shit weekend. It's a shit weekend. Shit weekend. Weekend. Many's the time you've seen me tell myself you gotta stop hanging packets all night long. Been giddy all the week and the weighing scale's killing me but I might have a better way of muscling my way back on. So I got a large bag of them Chips Ahoy and I say I'm Albert Finney swimming in. I got Geraldine and Jacqueline then in between the two of them, Siobhan your knickers your mammy's coming back again. Shit weekend. Shit weekend. Shit weekend. Weekend. She has a European name and she hails from Stoke, I get the jitters when she sits beside me. But get the shorts off her Donal never let it be countenanced we ever shot a coarse load over poor old Dicey Riley. This baby has its own meals on wheels and I'm thinking I'm a happy little fella. Then squelch squelch squelch her lasagna's coming up, and big surprise it's singing Weila-Weila-Waila. It's a shit weekend. Shit weekend. Shit weekend. Weekend. Her two best friends were friends with the neighbour of Anthony Burgess's niece. They put her through the wringer in an ear of corn town but there's something in the way she moves it with her two big feet. Ma daddy always told me aim high aim well and never die at the beginning of the week. But the sun is going down on this wounded animal and wiggle my urethra, the ship has sprung a leak. It's a shit weekend. Shit weekend. Shit weekend. Weekend. I'm in a trance I'm off-balance call an ambulance man it's looking like I'm back on the drink. I was comatose when I told you I was throwing in the towel, I'm back on the prowl now I'm backsliding on the icerink. Just when I'm feeling all high and mighty I feel the glug of an alien tongue. And as she humbles a caddie in the golf club above, someone screams into her canister, 'The night is young!' It's a shit weekend. Shit weekend. Shit weekend. Weekend. I'm but a molecule away from slapping you around for the sake of a good woman's love. The Canadian Airship Landing Disaster had nothing on the sight of her scuba diving suit coming off. You know how babies back in the old days emptied their schoolbags out. Plug up your ears, you can't hear, you don't care about the hairiest Presbyterian I've ever had to think about. Shit weekend. Shit weekend. Shit weekend. Weekend.