Hail to the rhythm of the blues
and that you always lose
to the power of the dark side
He's mad
and always on it
he's going to see to that you're sorted all right
His flat
is always open
and he's throwing in a party to night
Oh, he's hotter than a frying pan
black club in his house is a real man taking stand
taking care, taking things in his own hand
and all the boys and girls clap
Sitting in his lap dance is what he's good at
throwing shows in any ally
just to get the party rally going
and the horns that he's blowing
He's mad
and always on it
he's going to see to that you're sorted all right
His flat
is always open
and he's throwing in a party to night
This man
He must be something
cause he's buying everybody a round
own blend of own belongings
gonna have to take him
take him on down
Down down down
like the saucepan from the upper shelf to make sauce
thought the landlord for her self
bursting in with police and with social workers
ah, I really like to hurt her
Hail to the rhythm of the blues
and that you always lose
to the power of the brown side
He's mad
and always on it
he's going to see to that you're sorted all right
His flat
is always open
and he's throwing in a party to night
This man
He must be something
cause he's buying everybody a round
own blend of own belongings
gonna have to take him
take him on down
lala lala lala lala
lala lala lala lala
lala lala lala lala
He's mad
and always on it
he's going to see to that you're sorted all right
His flat
is always open
and he's throwing in a party to night
This man
He must be something
cause he's buying everybody a round
own blend of own belongings
gonna have to take him
take him on down