| Lyrics: | I was down by Bondi Pier, drinkin' tubes of ice cold beer,
With a bucket full of prawns upon my
knee,
When I swallowed the last prawn,
I had a technicolor yawn and I chundered in the old
Pacific Sea.
Drink it up, drink it up, crack another dozen tubes and prawns with
me,
If you want to throw your voice, mate you won't have any choice,
But to chunder in the
Old Pacific Sea.
I was sittin in the surf, when a mate of mine called Murf,
Asks if
he can crack a tube or two with me.
The bastard barely swallowed it,
When he went for the
big split, and he chundered in the Old Pacific Sea.
Drink it up, drink it up, crack
another dozen tubes and prawns with me,
If you want to throw your voice, mate you won't have
any choice,
But to chunder in the Old Pacific Sea.
I've had liquid laughs in cars,
and I've hurled from moving cars,
And I've chuckled when and where it suited me.
But if I
could choose the spot,
To regurgitate me lot, then I'd chunder in the Old Pacific
Sea.
Drink it up, drink it up, crack another dozen tubes and prawns with me,
If you want
to throw your voice, mate you won't have any choice,
But to chunder in the Old Pacific Sea |
