Ooby-Scooby Doomsday or The D-Day DJ's Got The D.D.T. Blues
Revolution! Bad vibrations! Manifestation! Ooby-Scooby Doomsday, I'm waiting for you
Well Mr. Politician, while you're smiling Your actions up behind you, they are filing To lock you in political asylum
Oh my papa's got money Oh my papa's got slaves Oh my papa's got power He has fun with bombs and guns, oh how
You talk about the left wing You talk about the right wing Being nothing's getting pretty frightening
My little boy's got money My little boy's got drugs My little boy's got crazy Sticks and stones don't break his dreams, no never
Revolution! Bad vibrations! Manifestation! Ooby-Scooby Doomsday, I'm waiting for you
We go to demonstrations We picket rocket stations And then we try to bomb the installation
Oh my mama, don't worry Oh my mama, I'm sorry Oh my mama loves her sherry She wears gloves when she makes love, oh kick it
It's getting very strange Maybe we're just deranged I tell you, something's gonna change
You change your god for another Change your telly for a color You change your book for your mother Nothing is for, nothing is forgotten
I don't want no ugly revolution Just wanna get high, just wanna get high I don't want no ugly revolution Just wanna get by, you know just wanna get by
Nice cup of tea in the morning Nice up of tea with my tea Don't want no sugar in my tea I've got more sugar in my D.D.T.
Fe, fi, fo, fum I smell the blood of an Englishman Ho, fi, fo, fum I smell a stereo Englishman Knees up mother brown Now you're here and now you're gone
Love me, touch me, feel me too I love miracles, I do Let us go to church and be good-looking (Oh, sweet mystery of life, at last I've found you) (Oh, sweet mystery of life, at last I've found you) (Oh, sweet mystery of life, at last I've found you)