What you need, my son
You been to school for a year or two
Pol Pot
For a bowl of rice a day
But your boss gets richer off you
Well you'll work harder with a gun in your back
Where you'll kiss ass or crack
Right guard will not help you here
Brace yourself, my dear
Pol Pot
Where the slums got so much soul
Now you can go where they get things done
Where people dress in black
Publisher: DECAY MUSIC
Then your head is skewered on a stake
On your five grand stereo
Back east your type don't crawl
What you need, my son
It's time to taste what you most fear
It's a holiday in Cambodia
It's tough, kid, but it's life
And the slums got so much soul
Kiss ass while you bitch so you can get rich
Pol Pot
You're a star-belly sneech you suck like a leach
Pol Pot
Where you'll do what you're told
You want everyone to act like you
Now you can go where people are one
Play ethnicky jazz to parade your snazz
Don't forget to pack a wife
A holiday in Cambodia
And it's a holiday in Cambodia
Slave for soldiers till you starve
Know you've seen it all
Songwriters: Jello Biafra, Klaus Flouride, Raymond John Pepperell, Bruce Slesinger
Is a holiday in Cambodia
Daddy's car thinkin' you'll go far
Brace yourself, my dear
A holiday in Cambodia
It's a holiday in Cambodia
Braggin' that you know how the niggers feel cold