| it aint no joke
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| Id like to buy the world a toke
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| and teach the world to sing in perfect harmony
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| and teach the world to snuff the fires and the liars
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| hey I know its just a song but its spice for the recipe
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| this is a love attack
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| I know it went out but its back
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| its just like any fad it retracts before impact
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| and its just like fashion its a passion for the with it and hip
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| if ya got the goods theyll come and buy it just to stay in the clique
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| so dont delay, act now, supplies are running out
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| allow, if youre still alive, six to eight years to arrive
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| and if you follow there may be a tomorrow
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| but if the offer is shun you might as well be walkin on the sun
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| twenty-five years ago they spoke out and they broke out
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| of recession and oppression and together they toked
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| and they folked out with guitars around a bon fire
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| just singin and clappin man what the hell happened
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| some were spellbound some were hellbound
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| some they fell down and some got back up and fought back gainst the melt down
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| and their kids were hippie chicks and hypocrites
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| because fashion is smashin the true meaning of it so dont delay, act now, supplies are running out
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| allow, if youre still alive, six to eight years to arrive
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| and if you follow there may be a tomorrow
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| but if the offer is shun you might as well be walkin on the sun
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| it aint no joke when mamas handkerchief is soaked
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| with her tears because her babys life has been revoked
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| the bond is broke up so choke up and focus on the close up Mr Wizard cant perform no god like hocus pocus
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| so dont sit back, kick back and watch the world get bushwacked
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| news at 10 your neighbourhood is under attack
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| put away the crack before the crack puts you away
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| you need to be there when your babies are old enough to relate
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| so dont delay, act now, supplies are running out
|
| allow, if youre still alive, six to eight years to arrive
|
| and if you follow there may be a tomorrow
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| but if the offer is shun you might as well be walkin on the sun |