Pagan Party

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