(The exertion of the dance, the excitement of Helen, 
and several beers have taken effect. Inhibition and 
caution are forgotten. When Helen suggests that they 
have a few more beers he's all for it. Why not? 
Everyone else is doing it. To refuse would be 'square' 
- and that terrible label must be avoided at all 
costs.)

Jeans were baggy, saggin' braggin' about some silly 
stuff we had
But no one listens in the kitchen fixin' up their hair
All the funny folks you bring around me, girl
But I never see you laugh

Sorry dear, you're far behind
At where it is you draw your line
Don't bring your circle 'round here
They're all a bunch of squares
They're all a bunch of squares

Stupid bastards blasted tellin' me what's cool
Indie record label, check it, retro record player 
makin' moves
You think you're hangin' with the winners, girl
'Cause you never see 'em lose

On where you choose to make your line
Don't bring your circle 'round here
They're all a bunch of squares
They're all a bunch of squares

All the little bimbos tip-toe to the middle of the room
Ain't going ga-ga for no product, Mama, nada, nothing 
new
Well, I said I'd see you later
So lets not make that soon

Sorry dear, you're far behind
At where it is you draw your line
Don't bring that circle around here
They're all a bunch of squares

[Break]

(If you want to swing - call him, right now he's got to 
split. Take a trip from Squaresville.
Live a little and see what its like to get some.)

Sorry dear, you're far behind
At where you choose to draw your line
Don't bring that circle around here
They're all a bunch of squares

(Get with it man and get with the countdown. Shake this 
square world and blast off for Kicksville.)