Black Polished Chrome Testo

The music was new, black polished chrome

And came over the summer like liquid night.

The DJ's took pills to stay awake

And play for seven days.


They went to the studio

And someone knew him.

Someone knew the TV showman.

He came to our homeroom party

And played records and when he left

In the hot noon sun

And walked to his car,

We saw the Chooks had written

F-U-C-K on his windshield.

He wiped it off with a white rag
And smiling cooly drove away.



He's rich.

Got a big car.