What do you want, blood?

Kids today
They’re all the same
All call themselves
Some crazy name

Monks and rockers and Beatle freaks
Punks and skunks and kooks and geeks
You’re looking in a mirror but you can’t see your face
Looking in a mirror but you can’t see your face

All those drugs
They can’t be sane
All that noise
Affects their brains

Sniffin' pot, smoking glue
Whatever terrible things they do
Smokin' LSD and such
It must be the reason why they can’t talk much

And it’s such a crime
How they waste their time
They can’t get nowhere
They’ve all gone
Beat crazy
Beat crazy

They say the world
Is in a mess
But they can’t talk
The way they dress

See the knee through the hole in their jeans
A hole in their pocket and it looks so mean
Hole in the T-Shirt, what’s that you said?
You’re about as clever as a hole in the head

Can’t get no jobs
Can’t get careers
With safety pins
Stuck through their ears

Cut your hair, dye it green
See it shine, with Brylcreem
A little dab’ll do ya, a little dab a day
Or rub-a-dub it in a dreadlocks way

And it’s such a crime
How they waste their time
They can’t get nowhere
They’ve all gone
Beat crazy
Beat crazy

And if the Russians ever come
They’ll all be beating bongo drums

Damn, beatniks rule
Dropped out of kindergarten
Dropped out of school
Really hot on my bongo drums
Really hot on my bongo drums

So who’ll defend
In World War III
Where could we turn
Where would they be

Tell her!

Down in the cellar, filled with smoke
Laughing at the latest joke
Doing the latest dance to do
The Fug and the Shimmy and the Suzie Q

And it’s such a crime
How they waste their time
They can’t get nowhere
They’ve all gone
Beat crazy
Beat crazy

Looking in a mirror but you can’t see your face
Beat crazy
Beat crazy
Beat crazy

More lyrics from Joe Jackson

Tags
rock80snew wave