Bloc, bloc, bloc

I want to go up to Detroit
I want to lie in the shade
I want to visit the president
And then I want to get laid

I want to go down to Memphis
I want to talk to the king
I want to tell him we're sorry
And it won't happen again

I've got a photo of James Joyce
It's a photo by Man Roy
It's not very very much like him
But it's not for me to say

She sacrifices her body
Almost every night
Just like a lamb to the slaughter
And she thinks it makes him feel right

You gave me so many problems
You made me crash in my car
I'll have a martini cocktail
And then we'll see where we are

So just be nice to your brother
I'll take your sister to bed
And I can bloc bloc bloc till the weekend