I’m told 1969 was the most erotic year

That’s what Gainsbourg claimed at least

Today, in consumerism’s dizzying era

I sit with a headache

Gone is the age of aquarius and its free love

Now it’s free parking and free samples

Nothing erotic unless it sells

The hot girls gyrate to hawk shit

Such a shame the hippies lost

Or gave up I should say

Surrendered their ideas

To push their stocks up a fraction of a point

Maybe I missed that erotic year

Maybe I just missed some fake bullshit

Or just different fake bullshit

A different ocean of bullshit from the one I wallow in every day.

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