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