This is simplified version, I just worked it out on ukulele, and it's probably not
perfect, but it sounds resonably close to the song.
Nothing is crueler than children who come from good homes
God'll forgive them I guess but whose side are you on
Driving around the old town I remember it all
Dropping my lunchbox and tampax all over the hall
(And they said)
You are a socialist cokehead we know from your clothes
You are a Satanist worshipper of things evil
Think you're a poet a folksinger poseur nah-oh
A volleyball player you've got to be kidding us all
So we hide from the guns on our night reconnaissance
Steal flamingos and gnomes from the dark side of the lawn
No-one can stop us the script is a work of genius
No-one has bought the rights yet but we're not giving up
Every unwanted lawn jockey fits in the script
Directed by spielberg and starring the masochist club
Mary you look like hell
Stuck in that ridiculous shell, oh
Give us some light and god's pure love
We know what you've been dreaming of
Give us some light and god's pure love
We know what you've been dreaming of
Give us some light and god's pure love
We're taking you to Hollywooo-oood
(, , , , )
(Holllyyyywoooooddd!)
And we hide from the guns on our night reconnaissance
Steal flamingos and gnomes from the dark side of the lawn
One plays a socialist cokehead we dress in my clothes
One plays a Satanist worshipper of things evil
One plays a poet who starts up a band of his own
One plays a volleyball player with both her wrists broke
And we hide from the guns on our night reconnaissance
Steal flamingos and gnomes from the dark side of the lawn
And we give them good homes give them love they've never known
In the loft in the barn in the town where I was born