| Song | Sell-Out Agitation Waltz |
| Artist | Mimi And Richard Farina |
| Album | Reflections In A Crystal Wind |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Well… | |
| you know the reason that nobody’s pleasin’ | |
| the one who’s been freezing him out | |
| The times are unsteady | |
| And nobody’s ready | |
| To sleep in a bed full of doubt | |
| But if you wanna fool around | |
| And run around | |
| All over town | |
| There’s no telling where it will end | |
| The teachers say you gotta stay | |
| In school just another day | |
| And study the logical trend | |
| So cut your hair | |
| And never stare | |
| At people who ain’t aware | |
| That every morning they wake up dead | |
| Take off your boots | |
| And find your roots | |
| And join the ranks of the young recruits | |
| Who have a collective idea | |
| Well you’ve been a-gassin’ | |
| And you been harrassing | |
| The one who’s been passing you by | |
| The right time for groovin’ | |
| Is always improvin’ | |
| Provided you learn to comply | |
| Society is never geared | |
| To people who grow a beard | |
| Or little girls with holes in their ears | |
| They’re liable to hunt you down | |
| And dress you in a wedding gown | |
| And offer substantial careers | |
| They’ll buy you a suit of clothes | |
| And pay to get another nose | |
| So no one will turn you away | |
| You’ll wear a tie | |
| And hope to die | |
| If any more you try to buy | |
| From people with nothing to say | |
| So find a loose alternative | |
| If that’s the way you wanna live | |
| And give up unusual friends | |
| There’s still time to straighten out | |
| And learn how to beat about | |
| And make your great plan of amends | |
| So cut your hair | |
| And never stare | |
| At people who ain’t aware | |
| That every morning they wake up dead | |
| Take off your boots | |
| And find your roots | |
| And join the ranks of the young recruits | |
| who have a collective idea... |
| Well | |
| you know the reason that nobody' s pleasin' | |
| the one who' s been freezing him out | |
| The times are unsteady | |
| And nobody' s ready | |
| To sleep in a bed full of doubt | |
| But if you wanna fool around | |
| And run around | |
| All over town | |
| There' s no telling where it will end | |
| The teachers say you gotta stay | |
| In school just another day | |
| And study the logical trend | |
| So cut your hair | |
| And never stare | |
| At people who ain' t aware | |
| That every morning they wake up dead | |
| Take off your boots | |
| And find your roots | |
| And join the ranks of the young recruits | |
| Who have a collective idea | |
| Well you' ve been agassin' | |
| And you been harrassing | |
| The one who' s been passing you by | |
| The right time for groovin' | |
| Is always improvin' | |
| Provided you learn to comply | |
| Society is never geared | |
| To people who grow a beard | |
| Or little girls with holes in their ears | |
| They' re liable to hunt you down | |
| And dress you in a wedding gown | |
| And offer substantial careers | |
| They' ll buy you a suit of clothes | |
| And pay to get another nose | |
| So no one will turn you away | |
| You' ll wear a tie | |
| And hope to die | |
| If any more you try to buy | |
| From people with nothing to say | |
| So find a loose alternative | |
| If that' s the way you wanna live | |
| And give up unusual friends | |
| There' s still time to straighten out | |
| And learn how to beat about | |
| And make your great plan of amends | |
| So cut your hair | |
| And never stare | |
| At people who ain' t aware | |
| That every morning they wake up dead | |
| Take off your boots | |
| And find your roots | |
| And join the ranks of the young recruits | |
| who have a collective idea... |
| Well | |
| you know the reason that nobody' s pleasin' | |
| the one who' s been freezing him out | |
| The times are unsteady | |
| And nobody' s ready | |
| To sleep in a bed full of doubt | |
| But if you wanna fool around | |
| And run around | |
| All over town | |
| There' s no telling where it will end | |
| The teachers say you gotta stay | |
| In school just another day | |
| And study the logical trend | |
| So cut your hair | |
| And never stare | |
| At people who ain' t aware | |
| That every morning they wake up dead | |
| Take off your boots | |
| And find your roots | |
| And join the ranks of the young recruits | |
| Who have a collective idea | |
| Well you' ve been agassin' | |
| And you been harrassing | |
| The one who' s been passing you by | |
| The right time for groovin' | |
| Is always improvin' | |
| Provided you learn to comply | |
| Society is never geared | |
| To people who grow a beard | |
| Or little girls with holes in their ears | |
| They' re liable to hunt you down | |
| And dress you in a wedding gown | |
| And offer substantial careers | |
| They' ll buy you a suit of clothes | |
| And pay to get another nose | |
| So no one will turn you away | |
| You' ll wear a tie | |
| And hope to die | |
| If any more you try to buy | |
| From people with nothing to say | |
| So find a loose alternative | |
| If that' s the way you wanna live | |
| And give up unusual friends | |
| There' s still time to straighten out | |
| And learn how to beat about | |
| And make your great plan of amends | |
| So cut your hair | |
| And never stare | |
| At people who ain' t aware | |
| That every morning they wake up dead | |
| Take off your boots | |
| And find your roots | |
| And join the ranks of the young recruits | |
| who have a collective idea... |