All those thankful chants

Everybody hurts

badlands, you know, 

But tell me why

I don't like mondays 

As you know me, halleluijah, 

(if you know what I mean) 

I'm always calling Elvis

because I know that we belong

like that lady writer on the TV

who invented a redemption song. 

Reading this again right from the start,

I realize that you are just a gigolo

(ain't got nobody, man)

so I twist in my sobriety

and walk like an Egyptian

into my personal Jesus boots for walking

on sunshine, dear. 

Tzena, Tzena, 

Iko, Iko

Yeke yeke

Sarri Sarri

Shosholoza! 

(repeat twice) 

Sing sing sing

(play the three fingered string) 

In my arms

La lluvia nunca vuelve hacia arriba, honey...

Coz in' these arms of mine

Plou I fa sol, 

my sherry darling... 

I'm mad about you

(my heart is lost in a distant planet) 

and you know it 

(promise for July Churches' sacred name) 

So thank you for the music

and pay me my money down, amen.