Well we're all packed up and we're Iroquois bound,

tuning our ears for the F.M. sound.

We got a million problems, we're on our way,

44th, New York, U.S.A.



That big crazy city don't blink an eye,

anytime we pass by.

It just keeps strechting up so high,

like a rocket, shooting, to the sky.

Iroquois ! Iroquois !



Special Branch got their feelers out,

our names and addresses 'cos we're in doubt.

Down the corridor, keep in lane,

find the worst seats on the plane.



Find a tacky statue three inches high,

dirty rain falls from a dirty sky.

On the corner of the street there's a big black fella' ..

trying to sell me an umberalla.



Get the Kraut boys round for a smoke an' a beer,

there's gotta be a pizza delivery near.

Call the barf patrol, there's a stain on the floor,

a weeks P.D's for the bathroom floor.