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