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Why are we racing to be so old? I'm up late pacing the floor I won't be told You have your reservations I'm bought and sold I'll face the music, I'll face the facts Even when we walk in polka dots and chequer slacks Bowing and squatting, running after tidbits Bobbing and squinting just like a nit wit Two little Hitlers will fight it out until One little Hitler does the other one's will I will return, I will not burn Down in the basement I need my head examined I need my eyes excited I'd like to join the party But I was not invited You make a member of me I'll be delighted I wouldn't cry for lost souls you might drown Dirty words for dirty minds, written in a toilet town Dial me a valentine, she's a smooth operator Letras de cancionesIt's all so calculated, she's got a calculator She's my soft-touch typewriter and I'm the great dictator A simple game of self respect You flick the switch and the world goes out Nobody jumps as you expect I would have thought you would have had enough by now You call selective dating for some effective mating I thought I'd let you down dear, but you were just deflated I knew right from the start, we'd end up hating Pictures of the merchandise plastered on the wall We can look so long as we don't have to talk at all You say you'll never know him He's not a natural man He doesn't want your pleasure He wants as no one can He wants to know the names of all those he's better than From Letras Mania