Give me virile qualities, like power, thrust and speed.
Give me things, till I forget, that things aren’t what I need.
Give me anti-perspirants, for sweatless sex-appeal,
A colour supplement affair; – OH make it seem like real.
Give me synthesised romance, my own Ronco soundtrack.
Let me know it’s really Love – before the screen goes black.
Put summer freshness in my life, I’ll do the shake ‘n’ vac,
Wash my brain with fairy Snow, and Solvite up the cracks.
Tony Blackburn, Librium, and Phensic fight the pain,
Give me instant happiness,a new, Dream Topping brain.
Give me brand identity; Oh, just as advertised.
Give me double glazing, Ted, I don’t like what’s outside.
I’ll pay with shiny credit cards, I’ll pay with good hard cash,
Send me a free catalogue, of all the things I lack.
I’ll pay eight hours work a day, I’ll get a mortgaged wife,
Give me help from the Halifax, and I’ll invest my life.
I want to be a Flora man, I’m scared of heart attacks,
I’m scared that I won’t get it all, before it turns to ash.
If I get my big promotion, I’ll shop at Habitat,
If I eat up my McDonald’s, I might get a happy hat.
I feel that I’m on overload, the needles into red.
I don’t enjoy my Barbican, I want out of my head.
The listening bank won’t tell me any secrets of success.
Friends pour my coffee on the plants, I’ve failed the window test.
Send Dyno-Rod – Emergency! – I’m going down the drain,
Sanatogen does nothing, AsproClear won’t stop the pain.
I’m dying of consumption in the Marlboro County dirt,
Dear Marge, Oh dear Clare Rayner, Please tell me why I hurt…
Bet Lynch, 1984