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Fat ol' crows with wet red lips

Like some ice-cream wag their hips and wink

Light blue waters wide blue skies

Black skinned big tail lovers

Fuck their soul out of their mind for lousy tips

Hot white sand and cold black lies

A sponsor-ship for the conscience sake

A sailing-ship for the great lake

We wanna see

A white washed paradise so we agree

To pay and wash away any touch of grey

Skin and bone kids rummage

In the rubbish of the five star hotel

Can you smell disease

Boils and bombs eat ugly holes

Into skin but half-deals don't sell

Seems that is a touch of grey

There's nothing you can get wanted or not

Even any kind of venereal disease

You can take it as a souvenir

There will always be a touch of grey