Babybird - King Bing lyrics

Oh you ugly beautiful thing

Oh you oh you
Oh you

You ugly beautiful thing
I'm in between your head and your sting
Unfolding out your wings
One by one 'til you sing like King Bing, yeah
Oh you beautiful thing
I'm in between the ball beat ball of the king
Holding out no cheques
Drinking Castrol not Becks
Plugging in TV flex into my kecks
I dare you to change the fucking channel now
Puts!

Ugly beautiful thing
I'm between your head and your sting
Whirling out your wings one by one
'Til you sing like King King Bing
Ugly beautiful thing how I sing
With your plastic ring on the
Tips of my broken wing
Oh, I'm so shy when you ride up so high
And I cry because
I can see the possibility that
You might one day die

Ooh baby cool, you know that thing
That thing you do that I love
You keep doing it, doing it
Doing it and I can't get over that thing
That thing that you keep, keep doing
Doing it, doing it, doing it drives me mad
I love it, do it, do it, do it, do it
Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah!

Calm down, son, sing the fucker like a baby
Burp yeah mom, I'm bad
You ain't a bad son, son
You're a fucking king
You're the son of god, you're mine
I'm Mary, i made you i forgive you baby
Come to mummy!

Butt-a-bing butt-a bang butt-a-bing butt-a
Boom boom boom
Butt-a-bing butt-a bang butt-a-bing butt-a
Boom boom boom
Butt-a-bing butt-a bang butt-a-bing butt-a
Boom boom boom
Butt-a-bing butt-a bang butt-a-bing butt-a
Boom boom bang

King, the word king son, I call you a king
You ain't Paul King, you're the king

Ugly beautiful thing
I'm between your head and your sting
Whirling out your wings one by one
Until you sing like King Bing

Ugly beautiful thing butt-a-bing, butt-a boom
You ain't butter, you ain't Harry
You ain't even the artist
Formerly known as Prince

Ah, ah, ah, you're a king you're a king
You're a king you're a king

Ugly beautiful thing ugly beautiful thing
See what all that means
Is that blue is really yellow
You grow old, you mellow orange turns you on
It's rust, it's things rotting
It's Mike and the Mechanics doing
Celine Dion doing Sting
Fony give away a hundred thousand CDs
To Virgin, Our price and all HMVs
Wish i'd thought of it, it's so cool
It's music for thick people
Lowest common denomination
All hidden under the steeple
Roof tiles and a hatch with weeds
Big tit's and tight behinds
A guy on the hatch improvise
And men who stack singles for £199
Get the fucker in the chart, charge £399
Take a cut off the supplier, off the artist
Off the public
Off the quick to buy and slow to think
Hey that's why you know i know
When will people realise
That if you put shit on the dance
Set and spin it at 45 rpm 120 bpm
You'll still hear it stink?
I'm out of here, whatever, amen

Ba da da, ba da da, ba da da
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

You ugly beautiful thing
You ugly beautiful thing
You ugly beautiful thing
You ugly beautiful thing
You ugly beautiful thing
You ugly beautiful thing
You ugly beautiful thing
You ugly beautiful, beautiful
Ugly, ugly, beautiful
Ugly, ugly, beautiful, beautiful
Ugly, beautiful, ugly, ugly, beautifu
Ugly, beautiful, ugly, beautiful thing

Oh i'm getting into Jamiroquai
Territory here man fucking stop it dead now
Shut the drummer up shove it up the arse!
Saxophone, fuck off!

Yeah be bop be lula be bop boo, yeah
Wiggy wiggy whack whack
Wiggy wiggy whack whack
Wiggy wiggy wiggy wiggy wiggy wiggy whack
Whack whack wiggy wiggy
Whack whack wiggy wiggy
Wig wig wig wig wig wig whack mmm
Bad jazz for white folks' assholes