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