1977 and we are going mad
It's 1977 and we've seen to many ads
1977 and we're gonna show them all
That apathy's a drag
My mind is like a plastic bag
That corresponds to all those ads
It sucks up all the rubbish
That is fed in through by ear
I eat kleenex for breakfast
And use soft hygienic weetabix
To dry my tears
My mind is like a switchboard
With crossed and tangled lines
Contented with confusion
That is plugged into my head
I dont't know what's going on
It's the operators job, not mine
I said
My dreams I daren't remember
Or tell you what I've seen
I dreamt that I was hitler
The ruler of the see
The ruler of the universe
The ruler of the supermarkets
And even fatalistic me