| Hey Jimmy, gimme the gimmix
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| Another day — another fad
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| Funk, yes, even for a minute
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| They’re not bad — dad
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| From the barmy days of the hoola hoop craze
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| To the skate board panic of today
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| Amused, amazed, aghast we gaze
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| We don’t get in the way
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| Tune in the idle chatter
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| Turn a blind eye to the scream
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| At the shatter proof heart of the matter
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| Things are as they seem
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| Mahatma Gandhi’s loin cloth
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| The cosa nostra kiss
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| Cola cans and coin-op cops
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| Amphetamine psychosis
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| Sick, sick, sick, or something
|
| Talk is cheap and loud
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| Dying of consumption
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| Join the lonely crowd
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| Look inside the freezer
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| Watch the pop up toaster pop
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| The blinking Mona Lisa
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| Is blinking at me non stop
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| Beauty aids, commodity art
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| And things that are for things
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| Tea’s Maids, cushions that fart
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| The Lord of the Rings
|
| Let’s hear both sides of the story
|
| Please don’t put me on
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| Trial by Juke Box Jury
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| They send me, I’m gone
|
| Chicken runs will sort out
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| The sheep from the proverbial goats
|
| Speed’s in, Sport’s out
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| We will not be approached
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| Caught in the metal of a straight career
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| Wn a bent assembly line
|
| Looking younger than last year
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| Marching men mark time
|
| Boy next door seeks girlfriend
|
| Outdoor type seeks fun
|
| Swim, sing, cycle and swing
|
| No matter what time of the month
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| Stereotypical playmates
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| Supplied and not get bored
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| With impotent anxiety states
|
| Collectively called the norm
|
| In ideal homes where missing persons
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| Appear and disappear
|
| The sound of iron curtains
|
| Cuts the atmosphere
|
| What’s going on behind the green door
|
| The war, the watusi, or what
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| The condition of admission is a haircut
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| A Tony Curtis or a Cooper Clar-ar-ar-ar-ar |