Saturday Night Farter

Move it on up, shake it on down, funky music Let's boogie... won't you play it again Move it on up, shake it on down, funky music Let's boogie I have to spend the day in polite company Have to keep up those social graces all the while But every now and then I begin To feel the need to break wind I have grit my teeth, put on a smile and grin I have to press my cheeks together And force it up inside I often have to do this several times Till in the end I can't hide the tears in my eyes I like to eat brussells sprouts and baked beans But they give me a problem all the time When I find myself in social situations Where letting it out would seem to be a crime But tonight I'm gonna let it all hang out Tonight I'm gonna break free of those chains Put on my best disco trousers And tight underpants And head on down to where that funky music plays Yes, tonight, I'm going to fart the night away I'm going to let my wind go free Gonna be a WMD (can't you feel the blast And, if ever I should be accused I'll blame it on my new shoes When I play my trump card at last And later on, if I have a few drinks, I might light my fire Then I'll sing this song again but this time I'll sing it higher Move it on up, shake it on down, funky music Let's boogie Although the music plays so very loud Won't you play it again Above it all you still might hear a noise Still I'll put the blame on somebody else As I've learned how to throw my voice Sometimes it might be silent but deadly All around ground zero is a no go zone But by then I'll be over on the other side Let out another loud one, and say it's my new ringtone -Hello Gareth Yes, tonight, I'm going to fart the night away I'm going to let my wind go free Gonna be a WMD (can't you feel the blast And, if ever I should be accused I'll blame it on my new shoes When I play my trump card at last And later on, if I have a few drinks, I might light my fire Then I'll sing this song again but this time I'll sing it higher Saturday night I'll be down the club Listen to the music go rub a dub dub Gonna boogie on down get on that scene I'm a wind machine if you know what I mean But I always make sure I'm in the right key My posterior trumpet's tuned to G Get in that groove, feel that vibe Hear the funky music from my backside If you're down wind you stand no chance A victim of my flatulence But I tell you now it's better than sex Let one go start building up for the next I'll save this one let it out as a roar As I blast my way through the Hallelujah Chorus And will Simon Cowell give me his vote As I play bum note upon bum note Listen to my friends when they all say I talk out of my backside anyway But I don't think my crime is heinous Just listen to the poetry from my anthology Don't hold it in it's bad for you And a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do And if my language you suspect When I blow off it's politically correct I hope I've made my meaning plain So I'll sing my song again I hope you'll sing along with me, after the count of 1, 2, 3 Yes, tonight, I'm going to fart the night away I'm going to let my wind go free Gonna be a WMD (can't you feel the blast And, if ever I should be accused I'll blame it on my new shoes When I play my trump card at last And later on, if I have a few drinks, I might light my fire But I'll sing not this song again 'cos I can't go any higher I need a drink after that - Bee Gees must have had operations