1977 and we are going mad 
It's 1977 and we've seen too many ads 
1977 and we're gonna show them all 
That apathy's a drag 

My mind is like a plastic bag 
That corresponds to all those ads 
It sucks up all the rubbish 
That is fed in through by ear
I eat Kleenex for breakfast
And use soft hygienic Weetabix 
To dry my tears 

My mind is like a switchboard 
With crossed and tangled lines 
Contented with confusion 
That is plugged into my head 
I don't know what's going on
It's the operator's job, not mine
I said 

My dreams I daren't remember 
Or tell you what I've seen 
I've dreamt that I was Hitler 
The ruler of the sea 
The ruler of the universe
The ruler of the supermarket 
And even fatalistic me