Didn't want no MTV, Didn't want no VH-1 Was a time so long ago Yeah, we had some punk-rock fun Made a great big noise For all the girls and boys It was 1977 Now two are gone to heaven Yeah, I was in an office space There across the street Down an alley, dirty stairs, And a basement underneath Brendan ran The Masque He played drums, we drank a lot We started playing underground People started comin' round Comin' round. Mark Moreland played his guitar And I clawed there at the keys Little brother Bruce showed up one day And now we're three I had this rhythm box That I got from Yogi Bear And Joe and Chas jumped on to play And we practiced music night and day Night and day. Hey, the scene was growin' out People everwhere Old hippies, beatniks, glam-rock kids Goin' punk rock––cut their hair One night we played The Whiskey With Miss Ivy and Mister Lux Backstage the record man approached Yeah, we thought we had hit the bucks Big bucks. So we put out a record EP Jim Hill was our engineer And when it got played on the radio We could not believe our ears There it was. So we went out on the road Started playin' near and far Drivin' in that beat-up van Or two or three old cars Drivin' everywhere. Then the sharks showed up and circled A big manager for Sting Said sign here, boys, you'll all be stars We'll go for that brass ring
The contract was like a book Two hundred pages long We signed there on that dotted line Just a dollar for each song Just a dollar. Things started gettin' wild With the band and me and Marc We did that methedrine a lot And drank that Cutty Sark Richard Mazda came from the UK Helped us to record in a brand new way One weekend, Marc's song fell out The single they still talk about We made a video With Frank Delia behind the lens Labor Day in Mexico, Lots of beans 'n drugs 'n friends But all was gonna bust Hey, how are chumps like us to know We took off on that tour so long And played and sang our radio song. Oh-woah. Now, it seemed like that old voodoo dog we had Was payin' for its fees We lost control of our own band To the record company Yeah, I guess we blew it big time Business got us bent We played a show for fourty grand And the manager took every cent Every goddamn cent. Yeah, things got worse, and pretty soon It was time for me to go I did my best to patch it up But we were all just big assholes So, if you wanna make a band, Get ready for a good ride Don't let weasels, sharks, and fiends, and creeps Force you to comprimise Uh-huh. Didn't want no MTV, Didn't want no VH-1 Was a time so long ago Yeah, we had some punk-rock fun Made a great big noise For all the girls and boys It was 1977 Now two are gone to heavenTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
