including lyrics by T. Rex
It was the decade taste forgot,
and tight shirts shimmered
under dim club light.
Friends say it’s fine/friends say it’s good
Suzi Qautro’s crown is made
of leather and King David Bowie
wears the sparkling tiara.
Everybody says it’s just like Robin Hood
The fans are androgynous in dress, manner,
and sexuality; no one knows which Rebel,
Rebel they’re dancing in the streets with.
Fly like a plane/drive like a car/hold out your hand
The guitars pound a driving beat
that seems to inspire clapping
and tapping and you had better
shimmy with whoever you can find.
I’m your toy, your 20th century boy
People sang their “free love” refrain,
then forgot the names they never
bothered to learn. The love wasn’t free,
but the lust was and came with bargains,
two for the price of one.
20th century boy, I wanna be your toy
Slade took a photograph with one lyric:
“Mama, We’re all crazy now.”