Svante No. 13 song

WORST HUNGER PANGS

Put venison, smoked salmon on the table,

add caviar and lobster to the spoils!

When roast beef fat starts curling best it’s able,

Then all my mental juices seethe and boil.

My palate’s greed’s a stay-by

and my appetite’s uncouth

my fork’s a catapult with vibrant twangs

that fires off all the dainties

into my mouth

but nothing can allay my

                      worst hunger pangs.

We’re wallowing in wine and girls who’re frisky.

A tape recorder plays a cheerful tune.

We dance so close that pulse and mood get risky.

Our bodies squeeze so tight we almost swoon.

I’m partying and lay my

giddy head in some lap

while everyone around just shouts and bangs.

my soul can feel a twitching

my flesh too perhaps

but nothing can allay my

                      worst hunger pangs.

I drink and dance and whore just like a nutter.

Behaving like a rocket that has blown,

so from my pores great sparks begin to sputter

I’m exiled from my every shaking bone.

I had a short-lived heyday,

all my flesh has turned to flab,

so cups are always brimful in my hands.

Just she who isn’t present

or my death perhaps

just one might but allay my
                     worst hunger, my best hunger pangs