Balkan Boy

I was waiting for a lift outside the Music LTD.
raping my lyrics about women
when a tall dude came up to me and said
he’d make a singer out of me
he said: hello, hello youngster, I’m Sasha Haster
I’m a musical producer
you and me are going to make
an economic endeavour

and – grabbed my hand, led me upstairs
right to his office
some oldies were
waiting for us there
they started some business talk
about me – the star from the sidewalk
plus – food to eat, beer to drink
I thought it was funny, didn’t stop to think

I’m a Balkan Boy, and my stench is the worse
I’m a Balkan Boy, and I’m hung like a horse
I’m a Balkan Boy, and I’m a love machine
I’m a Balkan Boy, and my snots are green
I’m a B. Boy, and soon I’ll be your

I was heard by Djordje Dinger
he said, Rambo, you’re a singer
your voice is great!
give your best on this new record
to give us pleasure with your vocal chord

I can get no satisfaction
I can get no disinfection

Soon, I was Elvis Presley big
the crowned show business king
everybody (even me) calls me now “ser”
this is how I know that no one is grater

women tell me: Rambo, you’re the man
you sing it like nobody can
women keep saying: Rambo, honey
your pants are bulging with money!

now that I’m a rich and famous bloke
no more waiting in line to buy a smoke

money started to flow in
boyhood fantasies are no longer a dream
I’ve got me a digital watch,
house, auto, car and a two-story garage
every day, something new to taste
I even got used to soap and toothpaste
I consume whiskey, intoxicate narcotics,
and only screw clean shave-legged chicks
my ma’ is music, my pa’ is showbiz,
if the pay is good I’ll sing where you please
my nose is crooked, my forehead is thick
women really love me, where is the trick
there’s a gold chain hanging down to my knees
hey baby, think you can stand a Bosnian kiss?

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