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To your patent to the universe that you created
To your headache to the shape of the 1880s
I'm glad that we don't hear you any more
I'm tired of fighting in your old-fashioned war
To the lights to the lead painting in your homes
Sunday night fears from Raw-head and Bloody-bones
I'm glad that we don't hear you any more
I'm tired of fighting in your old-fashioned war
Goodbye Seventies
1870s
To your patent to the universe that you created
To your prescription for the million vials of 1880
I'm glad that we don't hear you any more
I'm tired of losing in your steam fashion war
Goodbye Seventies
1870s
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