歌詞
Hey modern days, here we come
But our feet are swollen and we got no place to stay
But we hope it would still be okay
'cos we brought champagne
And we thought that there must be sleeping bags
(in this very modern day)
But we're all very proud to be here today
The first of a thousand million modern days
'Cos it's a scam, it's a royal kind of wham-bam figure
It's abrieved in the sense of being up-john and senseless
It's a see-saw sickness, it's a snake-bite, low-chant jive
On the century's crime
Well, it's a scam, it's a royal kind of wham-bam figure
It's abrieved in the sense of being up-john and senseless
It's a see-saw sickness, it's a snake-bite, low-chant jive
On the century's crime
Hey modern days, we are taken a-back
We're a flame and a-gog, aloof and inhaled
With a don-don briefcase, oh, wait for our call
And I therefore shall declare
That the stores shall be locked no more
(no more), no more, (no more)
Why shall men suffer, why shall there be freaks?
Why am I still rehearsing a song when I oughta sleep?
'Cos it's a scam, it's a royal kind of wham-bam figure
It's abrieved in the sense of being up-john and senseless
It's a see-saw sickness, it's a snake-bite, low-chant jive
On the century's crime
Well, it's a scam, it's a royal kind of wham-bam figure
It's abrieved in the sense of being up-john and senseless
It's a see-saw sickness, it's a snake-bite, low-chant jive
On the century's crime
Oh, chin-batty dour face, why did you go there?
Sitting on a cold stone, waiting for the train home
Hoping it would carry me home
Hoping you would carry me home
Well, it's a scam, it's a royal kind of wham-bam figure
It's abrieved in the sense of being up-john and senseless
It's a see-saw sickness, it's a snake-bite, low-chant jive
On the century's crime
It's a scam, it's a royal kind of wham-bam figure
It's abrieved in the sense of being up-john and senseless
It's a see-saw sickness, it's a snake-bite, low-chant jive
On the century's crime
Chin-batty dour face, why did you go there?
Sitting on a cold stone, waiting for the train home
Hoping that the wind blows in the right direction
Hoping someone's calling, offering protection
Chin-batty dour face, why did you go there?
Sitting on a cold stone, waiting for the train home
Hoping that the wind blows in the right direction
Hoping someone's calling, offering erection
Written by: Ola Salo
