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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, you.
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 f-cking 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 wing 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.
oh 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 f-cker like a baby.

yeah mom, i’m bad.
you ain’t a bad son, son, you’re a f-cking king.
you’re the son of god, you’re mine, i’m mary, i made you,
i forgive you baby. come to mummy!
b-tt-a-bing b-tt-a-bang b-tt-a-bing b-tt-a-boom boom boom.
b-tt-a-bing b-tt-a-bang b-tt-a-bing b-tt-a-boom boom boom.
b-tt-a-bing b-tt-a-bang b-tt-a-bing b-tt-a-boom boom boom.
b-tt-a-bing b-tt-a-bang b-tt-a-bing b-tt-a-boom boom bang.
king, the word king.
son, i call you a king, you ain’t poor 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 a king bing.
ugly beautiful thing b-tt-a-bing, b-tt-a-boom.
you ain’t b-tter, 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 t-ts and tight behinds,
a guy on the hatch improvise and men who stack singles for

- babybird lyrics

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