Arrivederci
I'm cutting my hair
Tell Fish and Tracy
The weather's fair
Been eleven hours
We're on a dare
Arrivederci
To my old chair
I've been told
That the olds
Who bargain and save
They get sold
For the gold
On the little kings grave
So goodbye
To screamers
And goodnight, Irene
A salty whisker
Won't hurt anything