Lyrics
One, two, one, two
One, two, three, four
Bright lights, what's cookin'?
Smells to me just like a plebian feast
Bring on by that prosperous behind and
Fave a flavor? Place your wager!
Come on down, bring the family
Watch the wantin' wanna stay afloat
Just one holds a place in perpetuity
It's time to rock and roll
Broken bones galore! (Ooh, this one looks mad, his opponent is reeling)
Y'all ain't friends no more! (Glad we're protected by this glass ceiling)
We want gore!
Knock 'em silly!
Fist to the lips and uh, this loser wins! (Order up)
Hot Dog! Never felt so alive
As the irony bleeds from the crook in his eyе
Ya best be grateful, you ain't thе one to die
At Big Town Banky Blaine's Rockabilly Barbecue
Chop chop! Get 'em up on the pyre
As a pile 'o green burns a hole in his thigh
Now rack 'em up, HEY! Survive a day at a time
At Big Town Banky Blaine's Rockabilly Barbecue
Round two! (Bra-ha-ha-ha!)
Slow smoked and braised to perfection
Another rack of proletariat ribs?
Tenderized by the fight from the first verse
Mmmhmmm, delish!
Perverted for expendable poverty properly pummled?
Yeah, go ahead and throw 'em a bone if you want a good rumble!
Well, you got the money? Then we'll see you at BTBBRBBBQ
So this is our fate?
Scrapping for scraps below the table
So we can live to fight another day
Hot Dog! Never felt so alive
As the irony bleeds from the crook in his eye
Ya best be grateful you ain't the one to die
At Big Town Banky Blaine's Rockabilly Barbecue
Chop chop! Get 'em up on the pyre
As a pile 'o green burns a hole in his thigh
Now rack 'em up! HEY!
Bleed the lot of 'em dry
At Big Town Banky Blaine's Rockabilly
Big Town Banky Blaine's Rockabilly Barbecue
One fight, two fight, red, white, blue fight
One fight, two fight, red, white, blue fight