Yam Fool Man	

        Yam Fool Man, Yam fool man,
	He's the terror of the south,
	He rides around on a moterbike,
	And his looks wipe smiles from mouths.

	He's the terror or the north aswell,
	He rides across the land.
	For Yam fool man is big and hard.
	For breakfast he eats sand.

	He's smelly for he never bathes.
	His breath smells of lager and fart.
	He runs over hedgehogs and rabits too.
	He makes them pop and splart.

	And if Yam fool man should drive into,
	your city, town or village.
	Then you'd better watch out.
	For he'll scream and shout.
	And ride and rape and pillage.

[clap clap clap]