12/31/1969

Lyrics

I’m trippin’ on Don Kirschner
Spacin’ out to the TV screen
Get my inspiration
From a rock magazine
I was an 8th grade hipster
I was all decked out to play
Strikin’ poses
In my mama’s macramé

I never believed in the fast track
‘Cuz life is just a dream, and I’m flyin’
High on a flashback

Backseat lover
I lost my cherry at 13
Preacher’s daughter
While we’re crankin’ up the Queen

12/31/1969

Lyrics

Gather round
If you’re lookin’ for a ride
To the new downtown
Future sound
Hear the neon buzzin’ by
Trippin’, drunk, and high
Tokyo city

Visions of sugarplums
And cherry blossoms bloom
Feels like I’m walkin’ on the moon

Help me if you can
I’ve been drinkin’ with the band
I’m the new king of Japan
Boys, we’re livin’

Gather round
Revolutionary sound
Turn the lights up high
Talk is cheap
But with a little sleight of hand
It’s a freak show,
Sneak-a-peek show,
Poster children of the week show

12/31/1969

Lyrics

Cinderella girl
She dream about Hollywood
Flimsy tinsel town
Big party underground
Since she was 16
A bona fide bottle blonde
Opened all the stops
Pulled on her rubber gown

You’re so far off Broadway
Everyday, boring day Broadway

I think I heard her scowl,
"All the princes are vagabonds"
Kicked her pretty heels
And pushed ‘em to the ground
Starry-eyed and free
She beat all my rhythm down
Kitten in a cage
I dream I’m gagged and bound

Ya know you look like I should feel
They say you gotta dream to make it real
Every day I wanna beat the doldrums down
But every Cinderella story makes me wanna drown

Belladonna blue
She painted up like a clown
Princess of the ball
Merry-go-round and round

12/31/1969

Lyrics

Freaked out
Ya bought the corporate dream
Precious and young
Free fall
Bashed your head on the screen
Television
Blind date with the heroin chic sexy skeletons
Free love on the big city scene

'Cuz you got down the new religion, mama
It's the American dream now, mama
Television

Bells ring
Drag your ass outta bed
Smoke this
Just to wake up your head
Mental medicine
You gotta dress all the part
Gotta walk like the dead
(Fashion)
Revolution of tarts takin' over my bed

You've tried breakin' out
Tried breakin' down
Blue now
Teary-eyed angel 

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