Now that you set everybody free    What are you going to do about me?    Don't want to be treated like some poor grateful clown    I'd rather go back to the sweet underground    Where I can tell by the colour of my skin    And I know my neighbour 'cos he's the one, yes he's the one    Who always turns me in    A woman works the tunnel in the middle of the night    Picking up every lost object in sight    Handbags, toupees, lost legs and fingernails    The black market eats up all your failures    Her transistor offers no salvation or regrets    No pool, no pets, no cigarettes    Just non-stop Disco Tex and the Sex-o-lettes       There's no name, no name for the place or pain we'll cause you    again and again    If you do not co-operate with the Invasion Hit Parade       The liberation forces make movies of their own    Playing their Doors records and pretending to be stoned    Drowning out a broadcast that wasn't authorised    Incidentally the revolution will be televised    With one head for business and another for good looks    Until they started arriving with their rubber aprons and their    butcher's hooks       There's no name, no name for the place or pain we'll cause you    again and again    If you do not co-operate with the Invasion Hit Parade       They're hunting us down here with Liberty's light    A handshaking double talking procession of the mighty    Pursued by a T.V. crew and coming after them    A limousine of singing stars and their brotherhood anthem    The former dictator was impeccably behaved    They're mopping up all the stubborn ones who just refuse to be saved       There's no name, no name for the place or pain we'll cause you    again and again    If you do not co-operate with the Invasion Hit Parade