Well I'm stuck on a pineapple plantation

It's the failure of the nation

My friend's growing chicken

And all he needs is drugs

I could be up all night

I got nothing to hide

I say thank you

To the Lord above

The syndicate owns the farm

Their job is to keep me warm

They're the ones who didn't fail their

Maths exam

I'm working down on my knees

Ask the Lord help me please

Coz pineapple, ma'am

Goes just lovely with ham

I got rings around my eyes

My Tequila Pina Sunrise

I'm the author of

My own demise

I ask the Lord to take me away

He tells me that I'm here all day

Oh, and Richie

Don't skimp on those fries!