It was 4: 03 in a world asleep except for me
Alone in the Laundromat, the air too hot to breathe
The Tide was getting low, my pockets were drained
My socks were soaked, my colors all stained
Cycles agitating on, God damn, I needed some change
You walked right through the door
Waiting for the break of day
Searching for something to say
Dancing lights against the sky
Giving up I close my eyes
Sitting cross-legged on the floor
Twenty five or six to four
We skipped the light fandango
Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor
I was feeling kinda seasick
The crowd called out for more
The room was humming harder
As the ceiling flew away
When we called out for another drink
The waiter brought a tray
What is happening here
Something’s going on that’s not quite clear
Somebody turn on the lights
We’re gonna have a party
It’s starting tonight
Oh, what a feeling
When we’re dancing on the ceiling
Oh, what a feeling
When we’re dancing on the ceiling
There’s something happening here
But what it is ain’t exactly clear
There’s a man with a gun over there
Telling me I got to beware
Hand out the arms and ammo
We’re going to blast our way through here
We’ve got to get together sooner or later
Because the revolution’s here, and you know it’s right
And you know that it’s right
We are revolting children…
Living in revolting times
We sing revolting songs
Using revolting rhymes.
We’ll be revolting children,
'Til our revolting’s done,
And we’ll have the Trunchbull bolting.
We’re revolting!
We’re not gonna take it
No, we ain’t gonna take it
We’re not gonna take it anymore
No way!
Ma’s out, Pa’s out: let’s talk rude.
Pee po belly bum drawers
Flanders & Swann
Mama don’t allow no guitar playing around here
Mama don’t allow no guitar playing around here
Well we don’t care what mama don’t allow
We gonna play the guitar anyhow
In the beginning
Back in nineteen-fifty-five
Man didn’t know about a rock ‘n’ roll show
An’ all that jive
The white man had the schmaltz
The black man had the blues
No one knew what they was gonna do
But Tchaikovsky had the news
He said, “Let there be sound”
There was sound
“Let there be light”
There was light
“Let there be drums”
There was drums
“Let there be guitar”
There was guitar
Oh, let there be rock
Early in the morning I’m a-givin you the warnin
Don’t you step on my blue suede shoes
Hey little little gonna play my fiddle, aint got nothin to lose
Roll over Beethoven and tell Tchaikovsky the news
When I was a little thing
My papa tried to make me sing
“Home Sweet Home” and “Aurelie”
These were songs that my daddy taught me
“Camp Town Races” and “Susannah Don’t You Cry”
“Gentle Annie” still brings a tear to my eye
Label it garbage, label it art
You couldn’t call it soul, you had to call it heart
When I was a little bitty boy
My grandmother bought me a cute little toy
Silver bells hanging on a string
She told me it was my ding-a-ling-a-ling
When I was just a wee little lad full of health and joy,
My father homeward came one night and gave to me a toy.
A wonder to behold, it was, with many colors bright,
And the moment I laid eyes on it it became my heart’s delight.
-“BB”-
Daddy was a cop on the east side of Chicago
Back in the U.S.A., back in the bad old days
In the heat of a summer night
In the land of the dollar bill
When the town of Chicago died
And they talk about it still
When a man named Al Capone
Tried to make that town his own
And he called his gang to war
With the forces of the law
I paint you a picture
But it never looks right
'Cause I fill in the shadows
And block out the, I block out the light
I send you a postcard
It says, “Pulaski at night”
Greetings from Chicago
City of, city of light
When the lights go down in the city
And the sun shines on the way
Do I want to be there in my city?
Oh, ooh oh, oh
Cause you belong to the city
You belong to the night
Living in a river of darkness
Beneath the neon light
In restless dreams, I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence