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