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