Man Papers His Crack

Hey Manfred, what you doing back there?

Come on, come unclean, man!

You can turn your back when you paper your crack

You can turn both cheecks, you can de-odour the reek

You can wash your hands of it, when you have been

But you don't fool us with your Mister Clean

We got the brown on our hands, a piece of Momma Nature's land

We got the brown in our glands, care of Momma Nature land

Hey Manfred, Manfred, listen to me, come on listen to me man. Inside we're all brown in there somewhere, we've all got the biz. So quit holding ground, no matter who you are your brown still smells. Let it out, man, come on. It's you soul, it's your soil.

As long as there's brown we'll be sticking 'round

You take away the brown, that's when we start going down

Going down, going down, going down, going down...