Sitting Bull
Would tell about a festival
Would be in a big group
With a headcount of fourty-seven
Kennedies are coming
With Sitting Bull
They’re arriving drunken
Others vamoose as wild geese
Sitting Bull’s sitting down
Those who quips
With head he kills
Lots of mohawks’re among them
Kennedy’s the big boss
Sitting Bull is the greatest there
His mohawk shines to celestial spheres
Blonde is a beast
But Sitting Bull is wild beast
Blonde’s arm has a size of one hundred and twenty
But Sitting Bull’s has one hundred and twenty-eight
He stands his ground everywhere
In Pest, in Vienna and where it needs
Has no match in the wide world
Sitting Bull’s the king of punks
Sitting Bull, I love you
A poem’s oozed to you
Sitting Bull, you’ll be the boss
For your honour I'll bow as guards
Sitting Bull
Sitting Bull
