Artist - Kevin Bloody Wilson
Album - The Worst Of Kevin Bloody Wilson


Ah, the Festival of Life is 'in' to save my fuckin' soul
They don't want me drinkin' piss or screwin' round no more
But they've got fuckin' Buckley's chance
I'm giving you the score
Still the Festival of Life keeps tryin' to save my fuckin' soul

It's Saturday afternoon at last, it's what you've waited for all week
Relax and put the feet up, turn the footy on TV
You're expecting Vern and Bluey round,they'll probably stay all night
A coupla mates and a coupla beers - aw, Christ, this is the life

Well here they are already, you just heard the car door slam
You wedge yourself out of your chair, get up to let 'em in
But it's some wanker that you've never met, with a briefcase in his hand
Some prick just out of Bible school, who thinks he's God's right hand

Halleluiah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah


I'm Elder Robbins 'n' he's Elder Pike 'n' we'd like to talk to y'all
'Bout eternal salvation, won't take but a minute or more
We got a book we think y'aII should read, 'bout how y'all should live
My, what a charmin' home y'all have - y'all mind it we come in?

''Well, I'd love t'invite yer in yer know, but the joint's a fuckin' mess
And there's an orgy ragin' in the lounge, and every cunt's undressed!
And I'd love yer to meet the missus, Shirl, but she's a bit crook in bed
She says she's got a real sore throat through givin' too much head!

'Gobblegobble, gobblegobble, gobblegobble


All snuggled up on Sunday mornin' and you wake up with a horn
You grab the missus on the arse, oh, Christ she feels so warm
The scene is set, the mood's just right, you're about to slip it inThen - (knock knock, knock) - there's that fuckin' door again!

'Good morning, sir, did I get you up? Sorry, I'm David and this is Pam
We're missionaries who've come to talk of Man's eternal plan
And to discuss the holy future and reflect the holy past.'
So you flash your dick and scream 'I'll holy shove this up your arse!

Up your arsehole, up your arsehole, up your arsehole


Well it's not like it's just once or twice, it's every damn weekend
Now how d'ya think they'd like it if we done the same to them?
You know, turn up on their doorstep at a time they least expect
Try and ram our way of life down their fuckin' necks!

Just imagine for a minute the reception that you'd get
With a couple of stick books in your hand and a carton on the steps
And your missus chewin' chewin' gum in a really low-cut dress
And you in thongs and overalls-you know, your fuckin' Sunday best!

What a yobbo, what a yobbo, what a yobbo


Gidday, we're pissed-up testecostacals, I'm Kevin and this is Shirl
We've come to introduce you cunts to a whole new fuckin' world
We've come to preach the good news, we think it's what you need to hear
We'll show you more fun in five minutes than you've had all fuckin' year!

Now You, sweetheart, you come with me and I'll teach you how to sin
And Sister Shirl, old sort, 'll suck your sav until your 'ead caves in
~Aw shit, your missus just fainted, so we won't bother comin' in
We'll just piss off back to our place-just drop ten bucks in the tin

'Nother carton, 'nother carton, 'nother carton