Why are we racing to be so old?
I´m up late pacing the floor
I won´t be told
You have your reservations
I´m bought and sold

I´ll face the music
I´ll face the facts
Even when we walk in polka dots and chequer slacks

Bowing and squawking
Running after titbits
Bobbing and squinting
Just like a nitwit

Two little Hitlers will fight it out until
One little Hitler does the other one´s will
I will return
I will not burn
Down in the basement

I need my head examined
I need my eyes excited
I´d like to join the party
But I was not invited
You make a member of me
I´ll be delighted

I wouldn´t cry for lost souls, you might drown
Dirty words for dirty minds
Written in a toilet town

Dial me a Valentine
She´s a smooth operator
It´s all so calculated
She´s got a calculator
She´s my soft touch typewriter
And I´m the great dictator

Two little Hitlers will fight it out until
One little Hitler does the other one´s will
I will return
I will not burn
Down in the basement

A simple game of self-respect
You flick a switch and the world goes off
Nobody jumps as you expect
I would have thought you would have had enough by now

You call selective dating
For some effective mating
I thought I´d let you down, dear
But you were just deflating

I knew right from the start
We´d end up hating
Pictures of the merchandise
Plastered on the wall
We can look so long as we don´t have to talk at all

You say you´ll never know him
He´s an unnatural man
He doesn´t want your pleasure
He wants as no one can
He wants to know the names of
All those he´s better than

Two little Hitlers will fight it out until
One little Hitler does the other one´s will
I will return
I will not burn
Down in the basement

I will return
I will not burn
[x2]