the monochrome set
apocalypso
Sing ho! for the A-bomb melody It merrily whistles down on me I'm wrapped in silver foil My blood is on the boil B-52s flutter coyly  All I want is a flat in Berkeley Square With colour TV set, reclining chair Big box of Suchard for me to devour Antique grandfather clock, phone in the shower  Hurrah! For the missiles from heaven's gate They syncopate gaily in seven eight I mambo to the sound Of Martels, air-to-ground I hear the baying of bloodhounds  All I require is a Rolls Royce Corniche Cocktail cabinet for the nouveaux riches Persian carpets and Van Goghs in the boot Cardin three-piece beneath my Noddy suit  Hip! hip! for machine gun, breve and rest It beats out a rhythm in my chest Crotchets in my belly Turn my legs to jelly Quavers are F sharp and L, G  All I desire is a Swiss bank account Given an OBE and made a Count Country estate with a resident staff Acute angina and an epitaph