It's nautical with weirdos
The cinema stays dry
The underground its heroes
They're queueing up, my oh my
The polythene wigwam ritual
She's got a blue bikini
Two kisses and you're captive
Like something from Fred Fellini
The need to play grew up with the admiring of those in diminished clothes
They're marching in defiant
They carry their flags on high
The military hatchet people
Are giving their battle cry
There's Latin sounds on Sunday
With caramel crêpes at large
We haven't got a drift net
For happenings free of charge
Repeat

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