There's a girl, her name is Bambirella
A gothic little princess grooving like an umbrella
One could swear she's an ad for
autism
(But she's) two hundred pounds of poetry and dark romanticism
She's been invited by a neighbour at a West Indian
party
Rum flowing everywhere, stupid people laughing loudly
Neurosis resurfaces, she'd be better on her own
Than to share a night
of s**t with La Compagnie Crole
Bambirella don't like Carioca
f**k off Huggy, leave me on the sofa
(Tous
ensemble!)
Ohlala Ohlala Ohlala Ohlala
Eh oui (Ohlala)
C'est comme a
Ohlala Ohlala Ohlala Ohlala
Ben v'l (Ohlala)
C'est
la vie
Some assholes are gonna learn what it's like to be down
Pas de chatte (Ohlala)
C'est la faille
Ohlala Ohlala
Ohlala Ohlala
Eh oui (Ohlala)
C'est comme a
"Dancing is easier than trying to find some work"
She thinks, as inside she
slowly goes berserk
She feels several laughing eyes are scanning her entire body
She knows that within hours they all will be so
sorry
Gross reflections, stupid puns and silly jokes
The cheap perfumes melted with the smells of booze and smoke
It makes
her really sick so she's heading for the toilets
She's barely at the door (when) she feels a hand on her butt... Oh no!
Too much
for her to take
Something's growing inside
Too much for her to take
They can run but can't hide
Too much for her to
take
The fuckin' fury is now unleashed
She is gonna quote some Baudelaire
To the m**********r who touched her
derriere
(Zoukez!)
Ohlala Ohlala Ohlala Ohlala
Eh oui (Ohlala)
C'est comme a
Ohlala Ohlala Ohlala Ohlala
Ben v'l
(Ohlala)
C'est la vie
Some assholes are gonna learn what it's like to be down
Pas de chatte (Ohlala)
C'est la
faille
Ohlala Ohlala Ohlala Ohlala
Eh oui (Ohlala)
C'est comme a
f**k that s**t
Bambirella will never go there
again
All alone, without one of her depressed friends
(Note: Could Kassav's drummer play that pleasant bridge?)
There's no fun in
all their Caribbean s**t
No frizzy a*****e hair-dressed like Robert Smith
Let the song end
with the third shotgun
blast
for no particular reason