O I sat in the attic, a piano up my nose, and the wind played a dreadful cantata.
Sore was I from a crack of an enemy's hose and the horrible sound of tomato.
Ketchup, soup and puree, don't get left behind.
Ketchup, soup and puree, don't get left behind.
When a rattle of rats had awoken, the sinews, the nerves and the veins.
My piano was boldly outspoken in attempts to repeat this refrain.
So I stood with a knot in my stomach, and I gazed at that terrible sight,
Of two youngsters concealed in a barrel, sucking monkberry moon delight,
Monkberry moon delight, monkberry moon delight, monkberry omon delight,
Monkberry moon delight.
Well, I know my banana is older than the rest and my hair is a tangled beretta.
But I leave my pajamas to Billy Budapest, and I don't get the gist of your letter.
Catch up, catch some kittens, don't get left behind.
Catch up, catch some kittens, don't get left behind.
Oh, monkberry moon delight, yeah, monkberry moon delight, monkberry moon delight?
Writer(s): Paul Mccartney, Linda Mccartney
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com