Teléfonos / White Trash

Night is down in insect town

I'm sitting here glued to the glowing tube
Tedious, tedium, is flowing slow
About the crying for something I could really use

We're worker ants, or we're ants with wings?
Saying God I'm high or Christ, I'm late
Asking girls and women
Won't you show me the way?
To, crumple sheets and naughtier things
But it's sad, it's so sad
Old people shouldn't take it quite so bad, I know
But it's sad, sad, sad
Well, the sadness of a long dead star on late night TV
The sadness of shooting away your bloom
And of old crumpled men in their workday suits
And telephones ringing in empty rooms
All the birs have flown from the pocket town
And a family I know, has built an ark
It's been raining long in a steady flow
And newspaper headlines read bad and stark
It's sad, it's so sad

Old people never had it quite so bad

And it's sad, sad, sad

Well, the sadness of a long dead star on late night TV
The sadness of shooting away your bloom
And of old crumpled men in their workday suits
And telephones ringing in empty rooms, okay

Ska, ska, skabadubadem
Ska, ska, skabadubadem
Ska, ska, skabadubadem
Ska, ska, skabadubadem
Ska, ska, skabadubadem
Ska, ska, skabadubadem
Skein, skein, skabadubadem
Skein, skein, skabadubadem
Skein, skein, skabadubadem
Skabadubadem, skabadubadem
I said, people of Babylon
Well if you wanna be wrong, you've gotta be strong
Cause if you don't you fall down, down, down
Well, you bite the hands that feeds you
Spit in the face of those who need you
Don't you know when you're old, who is gonna feed you, when you're on your own?
I hear my black brothers tell me every day
About how they've been put down in so many ways
Well, don't you know rasta?
We've been treated just the same way
I look around and all I see is
White trash in a Babylon
White trash in a London
White trash right here in Buenos Aires town, yeah
White Trash in a rich man
White Trash in a Babylon
White Trash, we're we're living, Hurlingham, Hurlingham Yeah

Ska, ska, skabadubadem
Ska, ska, skabadubadem
Ska, ska, skabadubadem
Skein, skein, skabadubadem
Skein, skein, skabadubadem
Skein, skein, skeinbadubadem
People of the Argentine
You easy eat your meet everyday
You're looking so fine
Don't you know what's happening to
You're going down all the time
Cause you bite the hand that feeds you
Spit in the face of those who need you
Don't you know when you're old, who is gonna feed you, when you're on your own?
I hear my black brothers tell me everyday
About how they been put down in a so many ways
Don't you know rasta?
Some of us been treated in just the same way
I look around and all I see is
White Trash, in a Babylon
White Trash, in a London
White Trash, acá in Buenos Aires town, you better believe it
White Trash, in a fishingskid
White Trash, in a Twinkcenham
White Trash, we're living, Hurlingham, c'mon baby, Hurlingham
Yeah

Okay