Like a bump from behind, a tug on her purse

Til you want what you find, it only gets worse

They talk of charisma but I don’t get it

If I spoke German maybe I’d let it

Make me sing

In the back of a limousine

Sing of love in quarantine

Lala-La-La-La_Lala-La-La-La…

No more of Jim, No more Marilyn

No more lies we all share in

No more Vicious, No more Dean

No No No more green tambourine

No more rockers, No more Mods

Smash the idols, make new Gods

Then kill them too,

Look beyond, Look inside of you

Look around, Look below, Look in-between

From the back of a limousine

Sing of love in quarantine

Lala-La-La-La_Lala-La-La-La…

Ye Olde Backlash