1977 and we are going mad It's 1977 and we've seen too 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 don't know what's going on It's the operator's job, not mine I said
My dreams I daren't remember Or tell you what I've seen I've dreamt that I was Hitler The ruler of the sea The ruler of the universe The ruler of the supermarket And even fatalistic me