TAB by Song : 75113
Tab List Area
1 Pages 1 Results
Mick The Master Farter by Kevin Bloody Wilson
Mick The Master Farter
E] [A] [B7] [A] [E]
I first [E]met him in the classroom back in [A]1963
And [B7]we seemed to hit it off pretty good, we were [A]mates, Mick and [E]me
He [E]wasn't such a big kid, even [A]back then at the start
And he [B7]wasn't all that clever either, but Jesus he could [E]fart
I first [E]found that out in class one day, when [A]things were going pretty slow
And [B7]just to keep us all amused, Mick let this [A]fucking ripper [E]go
Well, you [E]should’ve been there, look, I'd [A]describe it if I could
But [B7]I just turned around, and I said, "Hey Mick you’re fucking [E]good"
And at the [E]end of school Grand Final on the [A]rugby field that time
[B7]We were getting beaten, they were [A]12 and we were [E]9
And play was [E]3 yards from our goal-line, when the [A]referee called a scrum
And [B7]Mick said, "Don't worry fellas, we've as good as got it [E]won"
So we just [E]locked ourselves down in the scrum, and we [A]held each other’s nose
And [B7]Mick our little hooker, he let this [A]fucking ripper [E]go
Well, it [E]stung their nose, and it burnt their eyes, and it [A]even scorched the grass
And I [B7]twigged right then and there, he had a double jointed [E]arse
Chorus:
[A]Mick, me mate the master [E]farter
Put the art back into farting, with his custom tailored [B7]farts
[A]Mick, me mate the master [E]farter
Broke new ground in breaking wind, with his [B7]double jointed [E]arse [A] [B7] [A] [E]
And it was [E]just a couple of years later, we both [A]went to see Kamaahl
It was a [B7]really poshy sort of show, in this [A]great big bloody [E]hall
And all the [E]blokes were dressed like penguins, and you [A]should have seen the sorts
And [B7]Kamaahl himself wore a sheilas dress, like a bloody black Boy [E]George
And we were all [E]locked in there like sardines, for the [A]show to get underway
But the [B7]tuba player didn't lob, he'd [A]booked off crook that [E]day
And Kamaahl said, [E]"Without a tuba player, I [A]cannot commence the show"
So old [B7]Mick jumps up said, "Sambo mate, I'll have a fucking [E]go"
Well, from [E]then on in I honestly thought, that the [A]whole show would be ruined
But he just [B7]winked at me and picked that tuba up, just like he [A]knew what he was [E]doing
Then the [E]maestro tapped his little stick to [A]tell the band to start
And [B7]Mick just shut his eyes and cocked his leg, and then began to [E]fart
Well you [E]could have heard a pin drop, that [A]night there in the hall
And it's [B7]hard to say who sounded best, Mick [A]farting or Ka[E]maahl
Then the [E]audience just went apeshit, they [A]cheered and clapped and stood
And [B7]Kamaahl smiled as if to say, "Hey Mick, you’re fucking [E]good
Chorus:
[A]Mick me mate the master [E]farter
Put the art back into farting, with his custom tailored [B7]farts
[A]Mick me mate the master [E]farter
With his true-pitch perfect, calibrated, [B7]double jointed [E]arse [A] [B7] [A] [E]
Well, [E]good news travels fast it seems and it [A]wasn't very long
Before [B7]Mick got this midnight phonecall from Ben [A]Lexan and Alan [E]Bond
They said, [E]"Mick we've got this specialist job, and [A]we're prepared to pay ya
[B7]Mick old son would you consider farting for Aust[E]ralia"
We'll just [E]prop you on our brand new yacht, when [A]there’s no sea-breeze blowing
And get [B7]Mick the master farter to start her and [A]keep the bastard [E]going
So [E]Mick went into training on [A]sausage rolls and pies
And [B7]Vegemite and Fosters beer and a scholarship from [E]Heinz
The [E]world had never seen before a [A]yacht so finely groomed
Or a [B7]crew so fit and young and strong, or an [A]arse so finely [E]tuned
The [E]Yanks weren't even in the race, not [A]even in the same class
What with [B7]Ben Lexan and his secret keel and Micks fuel injected [E]arse
Well he [E]come back a bloody hero didn't he, the [A]all Australian boy
And [B7]government commissioned this bloke to do a big [A]statue of his [E]koy
And [E]I can still see Mick standing there when [A]they confirmed his Knighthood
And [B7]Bob[NC] Hawke pinning it on saying, "Hey Mick, you’re fucking [E]good"
Chorus:
[A]Mick me mate the master [E]farter
Put the class back into farting, with his designer-label [B7]farts
[A]Mick me mate the master [E]farter
[B7]Wth his true-pitch perfect, calibrated, turbo thrusted, fuel injected, W.I.N.G.S. protected,
[B7]double jointed [E]arse [A] [B7] [A] [E]
------------