Now if you're the kind of Mr Average that came from monkeys or outer space, loves folks but loves themself more, the kind of guy who chases impossible highs and drowns in his
Now if you're the kind of Mr Average that came from monkeys or outer space, loves folks but loves themself more, the kind of guy who chases impossible highs and drowns in his drink, gets a house in the ghetto and feels they're moving up in this world, perhaps you're middle aged and make up for your lack of viagra with 98 inches of flatscreen HDTV, the kind of victorian gigolo that would do anything for an extra tenner or maybe prone to the occasional bi polar kitchen smash up who realised that as soon as it started the only thing was the end and that dreadlocks are indeed still a crime, the kind of tourist who loses his shirt in marakesh to a man with a souk and a hairy chest for some bizarre soft furnishings, asks god to save us from the scum that rises or after many years has realised that the girl of his dreams has turned into a nightmare and travels through the jungle on a first bus, that has two heids on his shoulder- one wearing a bandana and the other wearing a suit, one drinking whisky whilst the other's eating fruit, that longs for the love of queenie black and that turns the lights down low, nobody sees then nobody knows (he can't help himself), has reasoned that there ain't no holy grail and knows that you and me all come from refugees (check it- it's in your genes) and the whole damn party is reaching critical mass, well, maybe you can hire the RATISTAS- THE INTERNATIONAL RATS. It takes all sorts of rats to make a sewer ladies and gentlemen and not one of us pure. Embrace it, accept it, dance, laugh and love it (but love yourself more)- Viva la Ratista, Viva International Rat. The Ratistas started at the beginning, moved on, and are currently hurtling towards the end.....we'll see you there folks
Now if you're the kind of Mr Average that came from monkeys or outer space, loves folks but loves themself more, the kind of guy who chases impossible highs and drowns in his drink, gets a house in the ghetto and feels they're moving up in this world, perhaps you're middle aged and make up for your lack of viagra with 98 inches of flatscreen HDTV, the kind of victorian gigolo that would do anything for an extra tenner or maybe prone to the occasional bi polar kitchen smash up who realised that as soon as it started the only thing was the end and that dreadlocks are indeed still a crime, the kind of tourist who loses his shirt in marakesh to a man with a souk and a hairy chest for some bizarre soft furnishings, asks god to save us from the scum that rises or after many years has realised that the girl of his dreams has turned into a nightmare and travels through the jungle on a first bus, that has two heids on his shoulder- one wearing a bandana and the other wearing a suit, one drinking whisky whilst the other's eating fruit, that longs for the love of queenie black and that turns the lights down low, nobody sees then nobody knows (he can't help himself), has reasoned that there ain't no holy grail and knows that you and me all come from refugees (check it- it's in your genes) and the whole damn party is reaching critical mass, well, maybe you can hire the RATISTAS- THE INTERNATIONAL RATS. It takes all sorts of rats to make a sewer ladies and gentlemen and not one of us pure. Embrace it, accept it, dance, laugh and love it (but love yourself more)- Viva la Ratista, Viva International Rat. The Ratistas started at the beginning, moved on, and are currently hurtling towards the end.....we'll see you there folks
