Re-arranging the atoms in my hairdo
Gets me thinking ’bout
Good times I had with you
Back in the sixties when love was free
Never need to worry bout my g.c.e.
Dying of boredom in your plastic home
Pretty the pictures, work to the bone
Don’t be depressed,
You can just pick up the phone
But it won’t answer ’cos
There’s no-one home
Count your possessions out one by one
Include your lovers, include the one
You threw away in nineteen sixty three
Include me out, don’t label me
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