Pagan Party - Baba Brinkman

We goan' party like we just came home from war

And have an old school Roman orgy

We goan' party like it’s Mardi Gras

And we all gettin' drunk in Old New Orleans

I’m-a take it back to the Golden Ages

Before the plague made rap so dangerous

Back to a place where the most contagious

Rash was behavin' so outrageous

Back in the day, when no cow was sacred

That’s when the pagans would go out naked

To dance and play and have wild relations

The passionate way, with no hesitations

This place is a nomad oasis

Where people go mad or go back to basics

As some grow fat on soul saturations

I’m so glad I know where that place is

Where no rat races sow active hatred

And most have nothin' but mo' happy faces

We goan' have one of those celebrations

If we gotta take it back to Cro-Magnon ancients

We goan' party like we just came home from war

And have an old school Roman orgy

We goan' party like it’s Mardi Gras

And we all gettin' drunk in Old New Orleans

We goan' party like a war is over

And no one in the downtown core is sober

A cornucopia of gorgeous odors

Roaring motors, and four-leafed clovers

‘Cause the whole world over there’s no more exposure

To any explosions, swords or soldiers

And no more extortion of foreign cultures

Where people get treated like organ donors

For the vultures;

party like there’s no more onerous

Bulldozers or border closures

An no courts either to lord it over

The people, and ignore the voters

And no more debt-loads and mortgage holders

And no poor workers and remorseless owners

Party like the weight of all chores and homework

Is born no more by mortal shoulders

We goan' party like we just came home from war

And have an old school Roman orgy

We goan' party like it’s Mardi Gras

And we all gettin' drunk in Old New Orleans

We goan' get rowdy like it’s carnival

Mardi Gras in the heart of New Orleans, y’all

We got rich and poor, short and tall

We got garbage haulers and Barbie dolls

Blue-collar workers, rock stars and all

We goan' get retarded to start it off

And let the bar flow like a waterfall

As unconscious bodies get carted off

I know it’s hard to stop when the jar is involved

But it’s not your fault if you drop the ball

When it’s all yeast, hops and barley malt

And the floor ain’t really that far to fall

And your home ain’t really that far to crawl

And it ain’t about logic, not at all

So don’t give no thought to the smartest call

And get off the wall, ‘cause it’s a party y’all

We goan' party like we just came home from war

And have an old school Roman orgy

We goan' party like it’s Mardi Gras

And we all gettin' drunk in Old New Orleans