Rats Songtext / Lyric

Very many years ago, the Bolivians were starving so.

They had rats as big as ponies there. They asked the Pope

To declare them fish.



We thank the Pope for granting us this wish.

When Friday comes, we'll all call rats fish.

We catch them with a net, kill with the gun.

We'll call it all forgotten when we're done.






They didn't look like rats at all, but like some horrendous horse doll.

Still they had to eat this thing.

In gratitude, the Pope-they kissed his ring.



We thank the Pope for granting us this wish.

When Friday comes, we'll all call rats fish.

We catch them with a net, kill with the gun.

We'll call it all forgotten when we're done.



We'll call it all forgotten when we're done.