Karate King - Kevin Coyne, Jon Langford, The Pine Valley Cosmonauts

Yeah, they call him the Karate King

Chopping children down like trees

Bringing cows to their knees

Making their udders bleed

Now they call him the Karate King

Top of the shop in his robe

Nothing there can grow

When he’s around

Going chop, chop

Going chop, chop

Going chop, chop

Down in the gymnasium

They call him the Karate King

Like a bird on a wing

Standing posing at the window

At the door in his vest

His white and muscled flexing at all the passing girls

Smashing his way through the window frames

Ripping apart his mother’s pearls

They’re dying on the dressing table

Chop, chop

Chop, chop

Chop, chop

Chop, chop

So if you see the Karate King

Help him, help him

Maybe you’ll tie, tie his shoe laces

Come on, come on, comment on his pomaded hair

Tell him he would have been an excellent

Kamikaze pilot in the Second World War

'Cause that’s what he wants to hear

That’s what he wants to hear in the gymnasium

Chop, chop

Chop, chop

Chop, chop