Okay, to name but one stupid magazine.
Hello.
Hello.
Now.
Okay.
Thank you, thank you.
Okay, okay, thank you.
This is a protest song.
Ladies and gentlemen,
I've suffered for my music.
Now it's your turn.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Cigarettes and chemistry sets
And Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
So I'm going back
To my little old shack
And drink me a bottle of wine
That was mise en boute
Before my birthday
And have me a * good time
Rain on a tin roof
Rain on a tin roof
Sounds like a drum
We're marching for freedom today
Yay
Turn on your headlights
And sound your horn
If people get in the way
Let me turn you on
To the chromium swan
On the nose of a long limousine
Even hot for the day
It is something to say
But what the hell does it mean?
I may be at home
I may be accused
Of being confused
But I'm average weight
For my height
My philosophy
Like color TV
Is all there
In black and white
Rain
Rain on a tin roof
Sounds like a drum
We're marching for freedom
Today
Yay
Turn on your headlights
And sound your horn
If people get in the way
¶¶
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¶¶
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Thank you, thank you.
Who'd have thought, you know,
that medieval folk music
should suddenly become, you know,
sort of a hit on Broadway
and in the West End and in Las Vegas
and who knows where else?
Iceland.
