Standard (EADGBE)

 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 squawking Running after titbits

 Bobbing and squinting Just like a nitwit

(CHORUS)

 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

 It's all so calculated She's got a calculator

 She's my soft touch typewriter And I'm the great dictator

(Chorus)

 A simple game of self-respect

 You flick a switch and the world goes off

 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 deflating

 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 an unnatural 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

(Chorus)

 I will return

 I will not burn . . . . .