Lyrics:

BOB:
I have to admit
I'm an absolute shit
But at least you can't call me
a hypocrite
I don't want fame
or the critics' acclaim
Take it from me
that's a pointless game
I've got a minder
a chauffeur, a flunkey
'cause Im the organ-grinder
not the monkey

Call me old-fashioned
At least I know what I like
Call me old-fashioned
If you're so wet
Why don't you get
on your bike?
Call me old-fashioned
At least I'm moving ahead
Call me old-fashioned
If I can't charm you
I'll just strong-arm you
to bed

The moment I see you with your trousers dropped
Will be as rewarding as just having shopped
All of the names that I've spent years collecting
They're the only things that are worth respecting
Prada and Porsche and Philippe Starck
The only little problem is where to park

Call me old-fashioned
You're all so quick to condemn
Call me old-fashioned
Until you learn
How much I earn
and I spend
Call me old-fashioned
and I've been called worse than muck
Call me old-fashioned
but understand
What I've got planned
won't be luck

Sex is fun and sex sells, honey
A shiny dream to make me money
Where the sea is blue, the sky is sunny
Love is hot and suprisingly

Old-fashioned
I'll make love down the phone
Call me tomorrow
I'll give you breaks
I'll be as long as it takes to your home
Call me old-fashioned
At least I'm moving ahead
Call me old-fashioned
If I can't charm you
I'll just strong-arm you
to bed
Where you can be
old-fashioned
with me