9 February 2013
There's a birthday in my house so it's curry time tonight
Ain't had one for years, and that surely isn't right
But tonight the gloves are off, lay it all upon my plate
Beers will pour, heads will be sore, Sunday morning knows my fate
I like to mix it up, some of mild and some of hot
Then back to the buffet to check out what I haven't got
I shall have it all, you can be sure I'll fill my cup
And therein lies the danger when your stomach churns it up
Then it's to the dance floor where it's time to bust a move
It'll take at least six pints before I finally find the groove
But when I start to dance folk start heading for the door
It ain't my John Travolta funky dance moves, that's for sure
Something altogether different clears the space surrounding me
It's the churning of the stomach, gas expands until it's free
And at the very worst of times, when all the punters are at play
Silent thunder then escapes, not that they could hear it anyway...
Sneaky wide eyed glances, who the bloody hell did that?
I'd laugh and shout, 'It's me!' but I keep it under my hat
Faces screwed up in disgust. It's time to leave methinks
How do they make their money when their restaurant really stinks
So if you're down my way come and join me in a curry
Just don't hit the dancefloor, you'll be leaving in a hurry
Best to bring a gas mask, make sure it's snug and tight
For there's an unexploded bomb in The Maharaja tonight...
Danger: UXB • Opuss № I