These mandolins will play at your bedside
|
No more black bins where you’ve checked in to stay
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You’ve cashed your chips in, the dice were all loaded
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Too tired to swim, instead you drifted away
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Ya…hoo, hoo, hoo
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Ya…hoo, hoo, hoo
|
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These mandolins will play for your pleasure
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You locked yourself in, then you sent us away
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A good place to die, the best room in the hotel
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So drink to yourself, and now you don’t have to pay
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Is it warm up in heaven
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Can you put your name on the door
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Do they have a drink rider
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Now you’re suffering no more
|
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Ya…hoo, hoo, hoo
|
Ya…hoo, hoo, hoo
|
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These mandolins will play at your poolside
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You invite us in to while the evening away
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We’ll drink some gin, and then when the hours past
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We’ll take our leave, and see you next time we play
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Ya…hoo, hoo, hoo
|
Ya…hoo, hoo, hoo
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-----------------
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Ya (Rest In Peace)
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| Colin Hay |
