There are holes beneath the fabric of this town
Lots of theories from the folks who venture down
Here’s a tale more adult, about a secret drinking cult
So come on listen up and lose your frown

The tunnels were dug out by Trader Vic
With diggers that were hula dancing chicks
They carved out holes and caverns, put in walls to make a tavern
The cocktail menu’s up now take your pick

In the tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tunnels
In the tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tunnels

The bartender was ol’ Beachcomber Don
When it came to mixing drinks that cat was gone
Mix you up a Planters Punch, or a Zombie with your brunch
And a Mai Tai to cool down when day is done

But the local apple farmers went to war
Saying “we’re not gonna take it any more,
The alcohol provider round here should be good ‘ol cider”
And they bricked up all the entrances and doors

To the tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tunnels
To the tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tunnels

So the Tiki culture’s lost and gone away
And the grass skirted dancers ceased to sway
Just one ghost that haunts here palely, strumming on a ukulele
And the traces of an Hibiscus bouquet

The Frome tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tunnels
(An  icehouse kept ‘em cool)
The Frome tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tunnels
(A bamboo bar and pool)
The Frome tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tunnels
(A beach under the ground)
The Frome tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki tunnels
(Lost and never found)