Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Commercial, artist - King Missile. Album song King Missile, in the genre Иностранный рок
Date of issue: 18.04.1994
Record label: Atlantic
Song language: English
The Commercial |
Lately, I’ve seen red |
I’ve tasted blood |
I’ve killed with words |
I’ve wished and hoped and |
Swam through a river of snot |
Twice as wide as the mighty Mississippi |
But I wanna know |
About the commercial I saw on TV |
An Irish guy |
Walking through a field of green |
Whistling one of those Irish jigs |
And a woman walks up and says |
«Manly yes, but I like it too.» |
Then the guy pulls out a huge knife |
And cuts off his first two fingers |
And somehow catches them |
In what’s left of his left hand |
And hands them to the woman |
Did I mention they’re both dressed in green? |
Then they both sing this song together |
«Are ya icky? |
Are ya sticky? |
Are ya hot as anything? |
Hey cut off two of your fingers |
And stab yourself in the eye!» |
Then he stabs himself in the eye |
And hands her the knife |
And she stabs herself in the eye |
Okay? |
okay? |
so what about that? |
Then they join arms |
And do this Irish folk dance |
While taking turns dismembering each other |
This was a commercial for deodorant, I think |
Or soap or something |
So now all the body parts |
Are lying in a heap |
But the heads are still singing |
«Are ya icky? |
Are ya sticky? |
Are ya hot as anything? |
Hey! |
get away from summer |
And cut off all your limbs!» |
Then all of the body parts |
Start hopping and bopping around |
Like little bunny rats |
Then they jump into the mouths of the singing heads |
But then they just slip right back out |
Through the severed necks and keep bopping about |
It’s very beautiful music that’s playing |
There’s an Irish flute |
And a mandolin, I think |
And the background singers sound |
Just like the Clancy brothers |
It’s really a wonderful commercial |
Spectacular |
It must’ve cost a fortune to make |
The kind of commercial you’d see |
During the Super Bowl, maybe |
Where the advertising time costs |
A million dollars a half a minute |
Wow, imagine that |
A million dollars for a half a minute! |
Anyway, by the end of it |
It looks like the two of them |
Have been through a juicer |
Or a food processor |
Or a blender or something |
It’s just a pink puree of blood, bone and flesh in a big bucket |
But it’s still singing somehow |
«Are ya icky? |
Are ya sticky? |
Are ya hot as anything? |
Hey! |
Blend yourself, process yourself |
Become a glass of animal juice!» |
«Haven't you had enough |
Of fruit juices and vegetable juices? |
Next time company comes over |
Offer them a cool refreshing glass of yourself! |
Give of yourself |
Stop being such a selfish piece of snot |
Okay? |
Okay? |
Okay!» |
«And now, back to our program.» |