Hey Jimmy, gimme the gimmix
Another day – another fad
Funk, yes, even for a minute.
They’re not bad – dad
From the barmy days of the hoola hoop craze
To the skate board panic of today
Amused, amazed, aghast we gaze
We don’t get in the way
Tune in the idle chatter
Turn a blind eye to the scream
At the shatter proof heart of the matter
Things are as they seem
Mahatma Gandhi’s loin cloth
The cosa nostra kiss
Cola cans and coin-op cops
Amphetamine psychosis
Sick, sick, sick, or something
Talk is cheap and loud
Dying of consumption
Join the lonely crowd
Look inside the freezer
Watch the pop up toaster pop
The blinking Mona Lisa
Is blinking at me non stop
Beauty aids, commodity art
And things that are for things
Tea’s Maids, cushions that fart
The Lord of the Rings
Let’s hear both sides of the story
Please don’t put me on
Trial by Juke Box Jury
They send me, I’m gone
Chicken runs will sort out
The sheep from the proverbial goats
Speed’s in, Sport’s out
We will not be approached
Caught in the metal of a straight career
Wn a bent assembly line
Looking younger than last year
Marching men mark time
Boy next door seeks girlfriend
Outdoor type seeks fun
Swim, sing, cycle and swing
No matter what time of the month
Stereotypical playmates
Supplied and not get bored
With impotent anxiety states
Collectively called the norm
In ideal homes where missing persons
Appear and disappear
The sound of iron curtains
Cuts the atmosphere
What’s going on behind the green door
The war, the watusi, or what
The condition of admission is a haircut
A Tony Curtis or a Cooper Clar-ar-ar-ar-ar