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White line feverI got it Off the children of Captain BeefheartThey'd been locked in the forest For many yearsThey could not help itThey were retards From the Los Angeles districtThere was TimThere was Tim TwoThere was RobThere was Dave the eagleAnd the mad Greek woman, The HydraIt was white line feverOver and over againOver and over againThey had us trapped in the hillsPlaying their Los Angeles music over and overIt sounded like Amon Duul at firstBut in fact it was a plot by three of themWe thought they wore masksUntil we asked them to take them offSongtexteThey took the trout replica a bit too farThey would copy Darkly My LoveThey were cool catsThey were white line feverThey were a bunch of twatsWhite line feverWhite line feverOften on the beach they would play For ever and everIn the sandy surf of L.A. CountyOne day They put their sandals onAnd decided to go in to RochdaleThey were pretty outta sightOrpheo, the ancient name from GreeceOrpheo, Tim PresleyHow many names did they have?Nobody knewWas it Latin?Was it Yamaha?Nobody knewSo they traveled like the born again ChristiansOr the Jehovah's WitnessesSo they traveled and traveledTill they reached the holy town of Ro'daleAnd Nob EndAnd RamsbottomTo find their true wagon, ChristianityThey were so happyThey were so happyThey could not describe it themselvesFestivalsSauna in the hotelsFantastic views of the English countrysideThey were besides themselves with happinessTheir tour guide, DavePut a stocking over his head, and you couldn't tell the differenceFollowing their leader blindlessly and obeying in all goodnessThe long trail to the Lancashire hilltopsHappy in their fulfillmentLittle did they know they were paying by the minuteFor the tape they were wasting Aus Songtexte Mania