Take a train now with me,
To the land of 20th century philosophers.

Bon, alors.

Maintenant.

When Guy Debord and I were bored,
He said to me, "It's not Guy, it's Guy"
"It's Guy not Guy", said I
"That's right", said he
Who was not Guy but Guy
"I see", said I to Guy not Guy
"I see not why you mystify,
To keep your numbers low not high's
No way to revolutionise
And change everyday life",
I asked my friend called Guy not Guy,
"To make you see, I have no time,
Talk to my friend Raoul Vaneigem",
"Vaneigem", said I, said he "Vaneigem,
You get it wrong quite every time"
"Well never mind", said I to Guy,
"Do try to tell me why you fry
My mind with jargon, it's so French"
"It's Guy", he said all rather tense,
"Sod you", I said and thence,
Went off to find a serving wench.

A G&T was off to me
While guys would spout philosophies
To other guys, or is it guys,
Or maybe gees, oh help me please,
Escape these dull adversaries,
Their theories are absurdities,
They're such a bore, although they're drunk,
I'm amazed that they invented punk.

When Guy Debord and I were bored,
He said to me, "It's not Guy, but Guy,
And anyway, boredom's never ever revolutionary"

I have scarcely begun to make you understand that I don't intend to play the game.

We have a world of pleasure to win, and nothing to lose but boredom.

Ne travaille, ne travaille, ne travaille, jamais!
Ne travaille, ne travaille, ne travaille, jamais!

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