Songtext Rubberneck Grand Funk Railroad

Rubberneck

(flight attendant ...)
Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. please fasten your seatbelts. we are nearing
Jamaica -- one of the beguiling isles, born of earths torments. whu-nu-nu-nus
Airlines is pleased to announce our new rubberneck helper evening tour at the
Wide river. your pulse will thrive in the pervasive beat as you wile away the night to
Calypso music played with torches. yes, you in the third world, snap on a palm leaf and
Receive a complimentary electrifying warhol cut and free glass of tia maria. dont be
Alarmed if you feel a little turbulence during touchdown. its merely the rastaman
Vibration!

Da, da-doo.
Da, doo.
Da, da-doo.
Doo.
Da, da-doo.
Da, doo.
Da, da-doo.
Doo.

(chorus)
Rubberneck,
Do you want buy ganja.
Rubberneck,
Do you want to follow me home.
Rubberneck,
Were gonna get your money.
Rubberneck,
Were gonna cut you never go home.

Had enough of workin,
I need a rest, I need a piece of paradise.
Been inside for so long,
Aint seen the sun and my skins turnin grey to white.
Heard a man on the street talkin,
He and his old lady havin warm caribbean nights.
So, I go to jamaica and all they tell me is ...

(chorus)

Oh, sweet jamaica,
Sleepy little island in the middle of the deep blue sea.
They got herb the best in the world,
A place every red-blooded hippie should be, yeah.
So, I go pack my bag make a plane,
cause the mans talkin warm caribbean nights.
Here I go to jamaica ... to jamaica ... and all the natives go ...

Da, da-doo.
Da, doo.
Da, da-doo.
Doo.
Da, da-doo.
Da, doo.
Da, da-doo.
Doo.

(chorus)

Had enough jamaica,
I need a rest, I need a piece of paradise.
No more rasta red,
Will a knife bout to cut my throat, yeah, and all that jive, no.
So, I go pack my bag,
Make a plane for the states before its too late. ah, bye-bye.
To jamaica ...

(chorus)

(chorus)