Ahab The Arab Let me tell you about Ahab the Arab, the sheik of the burning sand, He had emeralds and rubies just a-dripping off him and a ring on every finger of his hand. He wore a big old turban wrapped around his head, a scimitar by his side And every evening about midnight he’d jump on his camel named Clyde. And ride silently through the night to the sultan’s tent Where he would secretly meet up with Fatima of the seven veils. She was the swingin’est number one dancer in the sultan’s whole harem. It was like him and her they had a little Adam going, you see, Behind the old bugger’s back. And you could hear him talking to his camel And as he rode out across the dunes past the oil wells His voice would cut through the still night desert air And he’d say, maaaaaaa oyy oyy oyy !!! Which is Arabic for oh, baby ... And Clyde would say, eyewrah raaaoww uh uh uh uh uh!
Well, he brought his camel to a screeching halt at the rear of Fatima’s tent, Jumped off Clyde, snuck around the corner and into the tent he went. There he saw Fatima laying on a, on a zebra skin rug, With rings on her fingers, bells on her toes and a bone in her nose, eeeeyye.
There she was friends and neighbors, laying there in all her radiant beauty, She was eating on a raisin, had a grape, and an apricot, and a pomegranate, A bowl of chitterlings, two bananas, three Hershey bars, four burritos, Sipping on a frozen margarita, listening to a transistor radio, Watching the Grand Ole Opry, reading rolling stone magazine and singing rocky mountain high. And Ahab walked up to her and he said, yeeeiiaaaahowowhidehowdihi! Which is Arabic for, ¡°let’s boogie again like we did last summer, baby And she said, oh, Ahab, ah ha uh, Ahab crazy, baby
And that’s the story about Ahab the Arab, the sheik of the burning sand, He had emeralds and rubies just a-dripping off him and a ring on every finger of his hand. He wore a big old turban wrapped around his head, a scimitar by his side, And every evening about midnight he’d jump on his camel named Clyde ...
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Jack’s Version Ahab The Terrorist Arab: Let me tell you about Ahab the Terrorist Arab, the sheik of the burning sand, He had emeralds and rubies just a-dripping off him and a ring on every finger of his hand. He wore a big old turban wrapped around his towel head, an AK47 by his side, And every evening about midnight he’d jump on his Camel named Clyde. And ride silently through the night to the sultan’s tent, Where he would secretly meet up with Fatima of the seven veils. She was the swingin’est number one dancer in the sultan’s whole damn harem. It was like him and her they had a little Adam going, you see, Behind the old bugger’s back. And you could hear him talking to his Camel Clyde And as he rode out across the dunes past the oil wells His voice would cut through the still night desert air And he’d say, maaaaaaa oyy oyy oyy !!! Which is Arabic for oh, baby ... And Clyde would say, eyewrah raaaoww uh uh uh uh uh!
Well, he brought his Camel to a screeching halt at the rear of Fatima’s tent, Jumped off old Clyde, snuck around the corner and into the tent he went. There he saw Fatima laying on a pig skin rug, With rings on her fingers, bells on her toes and a bone in her nose, eeeeyye.
There she was friends and neighbors, laying there in all her radiant beauty, She was eating on a raisin, had a grape, and an apricot, and a pomegranate, A bowl of chitterlings, two bananas, three Hershey bars, four burritos, Sipping on a frozen margarita, listening to a transistor radio, Watching the Grand Ole Opry, reading rolling stone magazine and singing rocky mountain high. And Ahab walked up to her and he said, yeeeiiaaaahowowhidehowdihi! Which is Arabic for, let’s boogie again like we did last summer, baby And she said, oh, Ahab, ah ha uh, Ahab crazy, baby.
But old Ahab had planned a terrorist attack on those Infidels, And he was showing off his stuff to the tribe, When that big old grenade he was holding just exploded and blew his towel right up his stinking filthy Arab worthless pride. Ass that is to you French who just happen to be watching and saw the whole dam thing inside a cave from afar.
Now all that old Ahab can do is talk about his baby cause he can’t make no babies because he ain’t got no ass, no balls, nor cock, he’s just got Clyde and his AK47.
And that’s the story about Ahab the Arab, the sheik of the burning sand.
1 comment:
Ahab The Arab
Let me tell you about Ahab the Arab, the sheik of the burning sand,
He had emeralds and rubies just a-dripping off him and a ring on every finger of his hand.
He wore a big old turban wrapped around his head, a scimitar by his side
And every evening about midnight he’d jump on his camel named Clyde.
And ride silently through the night to the sultan’s tent
Where he would secretly meet up with Fatima of the seven veils.
She was the swingin’est number one dancer in the sultan’s whole harem.
It was like him and her they had a little Adam going, you see,
Behind the old bugger’s back.
And you could hear him talking to his camel
And as he rode out across the dunes past the oil wells
His voice would cut through the still night desert air
And he’d say, maaaaaaa oyy oyy oyy !!!
Which is Arabic for oh, baby ...
And Clyde would say, eyewrah raaaoww uh uh uh uh uh!
Well, he brought his camel to a screeching halt at the rear of Fatima’s tent,
Jumped off Clyde, snuck around the corner and into the tent he went.
There he saw Fatima laying on a, on a zebra skin rug,
With rings on her fingers, bells on her toes and a bone in her nose, eeeeyye.
There she was friends and neighbors, laying there in all her radiant beauty,
She was eating on a raisin, had a grape, and an apricot, and a pomegranate,
A bowl of chitterlings, two bananas, three Hershey bars, four burritos,
Sipping on a frozen margarita, listening to a transistor radio,
Watching the Grand Ole Opry, reading rolling stone magazine and singing rocky mountain high.
And Ahab walked up to her and he said, yeeeiiaaaahowowhidehowdihi!
Which is Arabic for, ¡°let’s boogie again like we did last summer, baby
And she said, oh, Ahab, ah ha uh, Ahab crazy, baby
And that’s the story about Ahab the Arab, the sheik of the burning sand,
He had emeralds and rubies just a-dripping off him and a ring on every finger of his hand.
He wore a big old turban wrapped around his head, a scimitar by his side,
And every evening about midnight he’d jump on his camel named Clyde ...
^^^^ **** ^^^^
///////////////
Jack’s Version
Ahab The Terrorist Arab:
Let me tell you about Ahab the Terrorist Arab, the sheik of the burning sand,
He had emeralds and rubies just a-dripping off him and a ring on every finger of his hand.
He wore a big old turban wrapped around his towel head, an AK47 by his side,
And every evening about midnight he’d jump on his Camel named Clyde.
And ride silently through the night to the sultan’s tent,
Where he would secretly meet up with Fatima of the seven veils.
She was the swingin’est number one dancer in the sultan’s whole damn harem.
It was like him and her they had a little Adam going, you see,
Behind the old bugger’s back.
And you could hear him talking to his Camel Clyde
And as he rode out across the dunes past the oil wells
His voice would cut through the still night desert air
And he’d say, maaaaaaa oyy oyy oyy !!!
Which is Arabic for oh, baby ...
And Clyde would say, eyewrah raaaoww uh uh uh uh uh!
Well, he brought his Camel to a screeching halt at the rear of Fatima’s tent,
Jumped off old Clyde, snuck around the corner and into the tent he went.
There he saw Fatima laying on a pig skin rug,
With rings on her fingers, bells on her toes and a bone in her nose, eeeeyye.
There she was friends and neighbors, laying there in all her radiant beauty,
She was eating on a raisin, had a grape, and an apricot, and a pomegranate,
A bowl of chitterlings, two bananas, three Hershey bars, four burritos,
Sipping on a frozen margarita, listening to a transistor radio,
Watching the Grand Ole Opry, reading rolling stone magazine and singing rocky mountain high.
And Ahab walked up to her and he said, yeeeiiaaaahowowhidehowdihi!
Which is Arabic for, let’s boogie again like we did last summer, baby
And she said, oh, Ahab, ah ha uh, Ahab crazy, baby.
But old Ahab had planned a terrorist attack on those Infidels,
And he was showing off his stuff to the tribe,
When that big old grenade he was holding just exploded and blew his towel right up his stinking filthy Arab worthless pride. Ass that is to you French who just happen to be watching and saw the whole dam thing inside a cave from afar.
Now all that old Ahab can do is talk about his baby cause he can’t make no babies because he ain’t got no ass, no balls, nor cock, he’s just got Clyde and his AK47.
And that’s the story about Ahab the Arab, the sheik of the burning sand.
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