He lives his life down on the beach,
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his grilfriend's got the skin of a peach.
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He likes a good time and he knows how to get it,
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rolls his own, you've gotta give him credit.
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As the waves come crashing to the shore,
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Tipuki Thunder give me more, more, more.
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Don't need booze or no whore,
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Tipuki Thunder give me more, more, more.
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Tipuki Thunder, maui waui lightning.
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His pockets bulge with wonders from all over the world,
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and he's a real big bro' to all the boys and girls.
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Holds his own but does tend to drawl,
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he's got a photo of us going over the Niagra Falls.
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He's a nice guy but don't mess with him,
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he's a nice guy but don't mess with him.
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He call us the 'jeebers' and takes us to gigs,
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'cus back in the States you know, we're pretty big.
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But I had to be down, I could not compete,
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with air in my head and lead in my feet.
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When he came to London the saw,
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a midnight flit to find another bed.
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But back home on the beach he can do no harm,
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with his video collection and Charlie farm.
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He's a nice guy but don't mess with him,
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or you'll end up with a pair of concerete boots.
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Tipuki Thunder
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| G.B.H. |
