Текст песни Quizz Kid

The old Rocker wore his hair too long Wore his trouser cuffs too tight Unfashionable to the end, drank his ale too light Death's head belt buckle yesterday's dreams The transport caf' prophet of doom Ringing no change in his double sewn seams In his postwar babe gloom Cut along the dotted line, slip in and seal the flap Postal competition crazy, though you wear the dunce's cap Win a fortnight in Ibiza, line up for the big hand out You'll never know unless you try what the winning's all about Be a quizz kid Be a whizz kid Six days later, there's a rush telegram Drop everything and telephone this number if you can It's a free trip down to London for a weekend of high life They'll wine you, dine you, undermine you, better not bring the wife Be a quizz kid Be a whizz kid It's a try-out for a quizz show that millions watch each week Following the fate and fortunes of contestants as they speak Answerable to everyone, responsible to all, publicity dissected Brain cells splattered on the walls Of encyclopedic knowledge may be barbaric, but it's fun As the clock ticks away a lifetime, hold your head up to the gun Of a million cathode ray tubes aimed at your tiny skull May you find sweet inspiration May your memory not be dull May you rise to dizzy success May your wit be quick and strong May you constantly amaze us May your answers not be wrong May your head be on your shoulders May your tongue be in your cheek And most of all, we pray that you may come back next week! Be a quizz kid Be a whizz kid