Mr Richard

Saw a suit in Daddy's wardrobe, I took a swipe Lapels, size of islands, gangster white line pinstripe Laughed off the street in the name of my Rock 'n' Roll Still a caterwauling groove will start off vacation Eighties plastic soul don't give palpitation Richie, he no like, he call out the firing squad Ba, ba, ba Richie, look for suede, me, I look for leather Sartorially we groove, occasional disaster For tight black canvas no make for a straight legged sixties scenester Then we hit the street with poise of commando Clothes, guitar but arsenal missing one thing Exotic Glasgow chick, they call her the 'Carmen Veranda' Ba, ba, ba Me and Richie dream to be like Mr. Richard Strung out secure, yes, we make like junkie Hooked up on that stuff they call it the Rock 'n' Roll I need to consecrate, I need consecration Clipped and soulful guitar riffing out the nation The nation in my head the national sixties sensation Ba, ba, ba