| «Okay, put the red light off!
|
| This is Johnny Rhythm just saying
|
| 'Good night’s to youse all
|
| And God bless ya’s!'»
|
| Rita Tushingham isn’t smiling
|
| Waiting for the green electric
|
| Train to take her
|
| Down to London
|
| Where she will see Mr. Wilson
|
| Standing by the iron railings
|
| Opposite the chestnut palings
|
| David Hemmings will be waiting
|
| With a job for David Bailey
|
| And the sun is always shining on Wardour Street’s
|
| (Pilled-up pop stars)
|
| And the king is in a counting house costing out
|
| (Smashed up guitars)
|
| And Illya Kuryakin looked at me
|
| Illya Kuryakin looked at me
|
| Bobby Dylan’s only bleeding
|
| Johnny says he’s only sleeping
|
| In the window, George and Ringo
|
| See you down the Pink Flamingo
|
| Mrs. Peel or is it Emma?
|
| Leaning on the black umbrella
|
| Had to be the biggest seller
|
| After Martha, the Vandella
|
| And the rain is only falling in the Northern streets
|
| (Documentaries)
|
| And they hardly say a word about Vietnam
|
| (Shh!)
|
| And Illya Kuryakin looked at me
|
| Illya Kuryakin looked at me
|
| «Okay, put the red light off!»
|
| Illya Kuryakin looked at me |
| Illya Kuryakin looked at me
|
| Illya Kuryakin looked at me
|
| Illya Kuryakin looked at me
|
| Illya Kuryakin looked at me
|
| Illya Kuryakin looked at me |