I'll be sticking around till the season's turning
And I'm gonna hang around until the summer's dead
But you keep following me with the words you left me
Banging around in the rooms inside my head

Hi there Mr. Blackbird, your friends are calling you
So you better fly up high in the cherry tree
But keep one little eye fixed on your girlfriend
Or she [bad word] sit on my window and talk to me

Stop everything and think [bad word] home for a while
It doesn't matter what happened to you, you're my crocodile
It doesn't matter, doesn't matter at all, [bad word] to the bar
Get back into the rhythm of things [bad word] to the bar

1979 and 'Heart of Glass' is playing
And she's got a bird that laughs and talks and sings
And he's got good shoes, he's got sticky fingers
D-D-Dancing around until the carpet's wearing thin

Stop everything and think [bad word] home for a while
It doesn't matter what happened to you, you're my crocodile
It doesn't matter, doesn't matter at all, [bad word] to the bar
Get back into the rhythm of things [bad word] to the bar

Get back into the rhythm of things [bad word] to the bar
Get back into the rhythm of things [bad word] to the bar
Get back into the rhythm of things [bad word] to the bar
Get back into the rhythm of things [bad word] to the bar

It doesn't matter, doesn't matter at all
It doesn't matter, doesn't matter at all
It doesn't matter, doesn't matter at all
It doesn't matter, doesn't matter at all [bad word] to the bar

Get back into the rhythm of things [bad word] to the bar
Get back into the rhythm of things [bad word] to the bar
Get back into the rhythm of things [bad word] to the bar

Get back into the rhythm of things [bad word] to the bar
Get back into the rhythm of things [bad word] to the bar