| When that blue smoke gets in your eyes
|
| You’ll choke, choke until you cry
|
| Oh you’ll die
|
| Hey where you gonna hide
|
| Well you can talk about the fog in London
|
| But listen mister that ain’t nothing
|
| When that blue
|
| Blue smoke gets in your eyes
|
| Now long before the dinosaur had come
|
| There raged a global sea from which life sprung
|
| A mere few billion years passed on the clock
|
| And man became the new kid on the block
|
| He could think and he could talk
|
| On his two legs he walked in a most peculiar way
|
| But soon the very things that set him free
|
| Made him a slave of his technology
|
| Leonardo, cosa hai fatto tu?
|
| But when that blue smoke gets in your eyes
|
| You’ll choke, choke until you cry
|
| Oh you’ll die
|
| Hey where you gonna hide
|
| Well you’ll be weeping like an alligator
|
| And leaping like a hot potato
|
| When that blue
|
| Blue smoke gets in your eyes
|
| Now let us turn to l’Homme Moderne and see
|
| The ultimate in greed and vanity
|
| He poaches leopard skins near Zanzibar
|
| To line the glove compartments of his cars
|
| Oh but you don’t even care, you just carry on
|
| Carry on your marry way
|
| But you had better change your foolish ways
|
| Or you’ll be sorry come the judgment day
|
| Oh yeah you’ll see
|
| You’ll be sorry real soon
|
| But my my my my
|
| When the blue smoke gets in your eyes
|
| You’ll choke, choke until you cry
|
| Wanna die
|
| Hey where you gonna hide
|
| Well you can talk about the fog in London
|
| But listen mister that ain’t nothing
|
| When that blue
|
| Blue smoke gets in your eyes |