I bought your record, and I fell crestfallen
By the borrowed blisters of an old time zone
Cuz I remember when the backbeat wasn't programmed in
and heroes were still human and messed up
And they rocked on real drums (twice)
don't let this carry on, dear son
Real drums forever...
I guess I can't say much, cuz you got me dancinBut if this ain't new disco, it sure as hell comes close
And I'll smile if you win, but now you've got me wondering
if this means you're inspired or washed up
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