Leave trigger sleeping out in the fields of grass
A workman's steed for sure, but now your time has passed
You did your bit, gave all you can give
Your father loved you, but now you are adhesive
Who's that in the garden, under bushes of rose?
There's Junior digging up Rover, just to watch him decompose
I'm afraid the kid has lost his lid
And now that Rover's gone, the baby needs fluid
It's your turn to feed the baby
I need my Nganga
It's your turn to feed the baby
I need my Nganga
It's your turn to feed the baby
I need my Nganga
It's your turn to feed the baby
I need my un-gung
With eyes to see and ears to hear and arms to act
My baby can't hold me close and keep me in contact
I'm no Son of Sam or nor am I a wicked wicker king
It's just the fuzzy friends we miss, the baby's stomaching
It's your turn to feed the baby
I need my Nganga
It's your turn to feed the baby
I need my Nganga
It's your turn to feed the baby
I need my Nganga
It's your turn to feed the baby
I need my Nganga
I don't dream of a fast car
I crave the touch of my Nganga
I don't dream of a fast car
I crave the touch of my Nganga
I don't dream of a fast car
I crave the touch of my Nganga
I don't dream of a fast car
I crave the touch of my Nganga
I don't dream of a fast car
I crave the touch of my Nganga
I don't dream of a fast car
I crave the touch of my Nganga
I don't dream of a fast car
I crave the touch of my Nganga
I don't dream of a fast car
I crave the touch of my Nganga
I don't dream of a fast car
I crave the touch of my Nganga
I don't dream of a fast car
I crave the touch of my Nganga
I don't dream of a fast car
I crave the touch of my Nganga
I don't dream of a fast car
I crave the touch of my Nganga
I don't dream of a fast car
I crave the touch of my Nganga
I don't dream of a fast car
I crave the touch of my Nganga