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Song Information:

A fortnight ago I took my beloved guest, a visitor from California who likes Mexican food, to North Hobart and wandered into Amigo's (a restaurant, allegedly, specializing in Mexican food) but we were rudely dismissed without any attempt on the part of the staff to be welcoming, hospitable or even polite. The joint was nearly empty but we were told that it was fully booked.
Tasmanian tourism (a major contributor to the State's economy) depends, one might suppose, upon fostering a reputation for hospitality, but the rude, arrogant, unwelcoming behaviour of the bastards at Amigo's was not the sort to impress any international visitor, and peeved me more than somewhat.
So...

Song Lyrics:

Amigo's in North Hobart: a place to shun;
for Mexican food you should avoid that one;
steer away from the dread, it is far from fun
at Amigo's.

A kind, friendly counsellor might tell you this:
Amigo's heads the roll of places to miss;
the food looks like crap, and the drinks smell of piss
at Amigo's.

I've heard that the vermin overflow the drains
and the cockroaches there work in gangs, with chains;
sensitive folk suffer agonizing pains
at Amigo's.

An off-putting sight is the vomiting rats
as they flee in horror from Amigo's vats
for they always cook "meat" in such rancid fats
at Amigo's.

Don't you trust the "beef" it is really old horse;
tonight's leftovers are tomorrow's main course;
and many a diner will soon feel remorse
at Amigo's.

Ironically named, an unfriendly place;
the waiters are filthy, the manager's base;
what is in your food if they spit in your face
at Amigo's?

Amigo's in North Hobart: a place to shun;
for Mexican food you must avoid that one;
oh, miss the misery for it's far from fun
at Amigo's.