“Who dat? Who dat? Who dat say they gonna beat them Saints?”
Backfield in motion, yeah
I’m gonna have to penalize you.
Backfield in motion,
Baby, you know that’s against the rules,
Offsides and holding, yeah…
We are the young ones crying out
Full of anger full of doubt
And we’re breaking all of the rules
Never choosing to be fools
We are tired of being used
We are constantly excused
In the battle and the heat
In the shadow of retreat
We are, we are, we are but your children
Finding our way around indecision
We are, we are, we are rather helpless
Take us forever, a whisper to a scream
We are We are We are We are–
We are the engineers–
We can We can We can We can–
Demolish forty beers–
Drink rum Drink rum Drink rum all day–
And come along with us for–
We don’t give a damn for any old man–
Who don’t give a damn for us!
They don’t give a damn about any trumpet playin’ band
It ain’t what they call Rock and Roll
And the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans, they play Creole
Creole
And then the man he steps right up to the microphone
And says at last just as the time bell rings
“Goodnight, now it’s time to go home”
Then he makes it fast with one more thing
“We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of Swing”
Pulling out jives and jamboree handouts
Two turntables and a microphone
Bottles and cans and just clap your hands and just clap your hands
I got guitar, basses, amplifiers and drums
Accordions and mandolins and things that sometimes hum
Cymbals and harmonicas, capos by the score
And lots of things in boxes laying all around the floor
Hear the sound of music drifting in the aisles
Elevator Prozac stretching on for miles
The music of the future will not entertain
It’s only meant to repress and neutralize your brain
Twenty twenty twenty four hours to go
I wanna be sedated
Nothing to do, no where to go-o,
I wanna be sedated
And I don’t wanna be learned
And I don’t wanna be tamed
And I don’t wanna be learned
And I don’t wanna be tamed
Feeling like I ought to sleep
Spinning room is sinking deep
Searching for something to say
Waiting for the break of day
25 or 6 to 4
25 or 6 to 4
Now it’s past my bed I know
And I really ought to go
Soon will be the break of day
Sitting here in Blue Jay Way
But it’s daybreak, if you want to believe
It can be daybreak, ain’t no time to grieve
Said it’s daybreak if you’ll only believe
And let it shine, shine, shine
Dawn is a feeling
A beautiful ceiling
The smell of grass
Just makes you pass
Into a dream
You’re here today
No future fears
This day will last
A thousand years
If you want it to
Pretty as a midsummer’s morn
They call her Dawn
Dawn, go away, I’m no good for you
Oh, Dawn, stay with him, he’ll be good to you
Anna
You come and ask me, girl
To set you free, girl
You say he loves you more than me, so I will set you free
Go with him
Go with him
Did Annie pop in to say, “hi,” or did she stay for a while?
Was she jumping at that other guy, the one with the glistening smile?
Was she hanging onto his arm, and was she laughing out loud?
Did I tell you I’m too proud to fight, and say,
Has Annie been in tonight?
I wanna dedicate it
(Pop, pop, shoo wop) Everybody made it
(Shoobie, doobie, do wop) Infiltrate it
(Pop, pop, shoo wop) Activate it
New York, London, Paris, Munich
Everybody talk about pop muzik
Rio, Paris, New York, London, Moscow, Peking , Tokyo… the world
A Tommy Camp in every city