Lyrics: Mighty Mighty Bosstones. Don't Know How To Party. Issachar.

Where's the wizzler, where's the corn?
Get jacuzzi on the horn
Issachar! Issachar!

Whatever happened to the mob? Issachar!
He had to quit and get a job. Issachar!
Road manager, security, Issachar!
Hangin' shirts and makin' tea. Issachar!
Where's the wizzler, where's the corn? Issachar!
Near the elevator, is there porn? Issachar!
What a man gotta deal wit! Issachar!
My head's not orange, cut the shit! Issachar!

Jack, Jack ca mi sey Jack Flanagan.
Mi a go tell a likkie storie bout mi good bredren wa go by de name of Jack Flanagan.
It was a long time ago down a C.B.G.B.
Mi look pon mi bredren name Docta Dready.
Mi sey Docta D. who booked dis opening band.
Mon in a 3 piece suit wit guitar ina im hand, ca mi sey Jack Flanagan.
On the road and on the phone, Issachar!
Roll up the window roll a bone. Issachar!
Rollin' a buck in a forty zone. Issachar!
Now settle up and head for home. Issachar!

He's Issachar now hear him roar Issachar!
When he's lost his temper find the door Issachar!
It's almost always good to see him, Issachar!
He's one damn fine human being. Issachar!

Jack Flanagen.
Mi bredren Bosstones dem naw slip dem naw miss Flanagen
im was di Mob guitarist nowadays he manage Reggae artist
so when you wan get pin Micky Dread guest list Jack Flanagen
him naw resist Jack Flanagen, Jack Flanagen,
sounds played by the Mighty Mighty Bosstones would entertain you, yeah, caught me sayin* ?.?.?
Got us 'cross the border, helpin' hand when it began.
Kept our shit in order my man Jack Flanagen.
In his town he'll hook you up, he'll show you 'round, he'll watch your back.
When we head down we look him up and hang around with Irish Jack.
Much, much, much respect, in this world it's hard to find Issachar!
A stand up guy who'll stand behind you if you're ever in a bind Issachar!
My man Jack he comes to mind Issachar!