Edwyn Collins - The Campaign for Real Rock lyrics

Don't try so hard to be different The cracks are beginning to show You drift like a cloud through the festival crowd In a frock coat from Saville Row You've just been an all-night party Where I have to admit it takes pluck To go out on the floor and proclaim "What a bore" In a T-shirt that reads "Disco s**s" Yes, here he comes, the not-so-young Pretender to the Throne He's singing "Rag, Momma, Rag" Won't you give that poor dog a bone? And he's wondering why we can't connect When he's sworn to us that he's totally wrecked On the rustic charm that he affects On a public schoolboy whim With a raggle taggle plastic gypsy Robert Zimmerframe With a synthesized accordian A-scramblin' up my brain With a fiddle-dee-dee a fiddle on high Excuse me folks while I kiss the sky Or at any rate give it one more try Before I die Before I die The overrated hit the stage Overpaid and over here And their idea of counter-culture's Momma's charge account at Sears And they're wondering why we can't connect With the ritual of the trashed guitar One more paltry empty gesture The ashes of a burned out star Yes here they come, both old and young A contact low or high The gathering of the tribes descending Vultures from a caustic sky The rotting carcase of July An ugly sun hung out to dry You gorgeous hippy dreams are dying Your frazzled brains are putrifying Repackaged, sold and sanitizied The devil's music exorcised You live, you die, you lie, you lie, you die Perpetuate the lie Perpetuate the lie Perpetuate the lie Just to perpetuate the lie Yes yes yes it's the summer festival the truly detestable summer festival Yes yes yes it's the summer festival the truly detestable summer festival Yes yes yes it's the summer festival the truly detestable summer festival