 Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair.
In seventy-seven and sixty-nine revolution was in the air.
I was born to late, to a world that doesn't care.
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair.
When the head state didn't play guitar,
Not everybody drove a car.
When music really mattered,
And when radio was king.
When accounts didn't have control
And the media couldn't buy your soul
When computers were so scary
And we didn't know everything
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair.
In seventy-seven and sixty-nine revolution was in the air.
I was born to late, to a world that doesn't care.
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair.
When popstars still remained a myth,
And ignorance could still be bliss.
And when God saved the queen she turned a whiter shade of pale.
My mum and dad were in there jeans
And anarchy was still a dream
And the only way to stay in touch was a letter in the mail.
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair.
In seventy-seven and sixty-nine revolution was in the air.
I was born to late, to a world that doesn't care.
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair.
When record shops were still on top
And vinyl was all that they stopped
And the super info highway was still drifting out in space
Kids were wearing hand-me downs
And playing games meant kick arounds
And footballers still had long hair and dirt across there face
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair.
In seventy-seven and sixty-nine revolution was in the air.
I was born to late, to a world that doesn't care.
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair.
I was born to late, to a world that doesn't care.
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair.
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