You walk around in circles
I walk around in squares
Another round of musical chairs
And maybe no one really cares about the way we walk
The record stores are out of stock
And all we want is bloody rock and roll
And clearly this is not the way to go

I saw it in the mirror
The ghost of Chairman Mao
He had three money symbols on his brow
And he will show the children how
To wear their cowboy boots
Bowler hats and prison suits
And watch while Neil Armstrong shoots the moon
But he's never gonna get there by balloon. (Ooh.)

I thought you weren't allowed here
I thought they crossed your name
And that would be your only claim to fame
Well it's a big fat crying shame
The way you lost your touch
The soapbox weighed a bit too much
And all this talking feels like such a waste
And now you've crossed the boundaries of good taste
Your only option now's to be replaced