Special K

If you’re ordering donna then you’re doing it wrong
I’m also strong on the fact it should never be a pitta
And I know for the Turkish a pitta is where it belongs
But I’m from Manchester so don’t get bitter
I never even knew it was Turkish until later in life
Always saw it as the Indian saviour of night
Even that I didn’t get right as they’re mostly Pakistani
Nan, meat, salad and sauce, the perfect sight
When I moved to London I couldn’t believe that an Indian kebab just didn’t exist
And would fill the void with crap whenever I was pissed
A kebab in a pitta? Just doesn’t make sense does it?
When all the sauce is dripping off and meat over the edge
And it cost ’bout twice the price too
Skimping on veg
End up in McDonald’s cursing my head
Craving mango chutney and onions dyed red
Give me Abdul’s, Saajan, Camel One
Don’t even need to be wasted, I tan it up for lunch
Fresh nan soft and salty and a salad with crunch
Don’t fob me off with one yellow chilli, I need a whole bunch
And I’m careful when I bite the top off so the brine goes on the paper and not on my bread
Either lamb tikka, chicken tikka, three sticks of Sikh
Spicy, juicy, salty with burnt bits round the edge
And I check the meat first to make sure it hasn’t been sat there long
And if you’re ordering donna then you’re doing it wrong

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