Mr. Richard Letra

Laughed off the street in the name of my rock 'n' roll

Still a caterwauling groove will start off vacation

Eighties plastic Soul don't give palpitation

Richie, he no like, he call out the firing squad



Ba ba ba . . .



Richie look for suede, me I look for leather

Sartorially we groove, occasional disaster

For tight black canvas no make for a straight legged sixties scenester

Then we hit the street with poise of commando

Clothes, guitar, but arsenal missing one thing

Exotic Glasgow chick, they call her the "Carmen Veranda"



Ba ba ba . . .



Me and Richie dream to be like Mr. Richard

Strung out secure, yes, we make like junkie

Hooked up on that stuff they call it the rock 'n' roll

I need to consecrate, I need consecration

Clipped and soulful guitar riffing out the nation

The nation in my head the national sixties sensation



Ba ba ba . . .