In 1900 you held hands and felt like you'd scored
In 1910 you'd never need a horse anymore
In 1920 you could dance
In 1930 lose your pants
In 1940 you could go to war really soon
In 1950 you could just be dull and a bore
In 1960 set the world on fire
That was then, this is now
And nothing's blowin in the wind
Screwed up, that's the problem
You're going down, down, down, down, down
Screwed up, that's your problem
You're coming unwound wound, wound, wound
You're wasting time seeking comfort
from any sight or any sound
I knew you when you weren't a bit screwed up
Now what you got is spreading around
It really doesn't matter if you know how to sing
I'm getting on my nerves I'm getting on my nerves and
everything you're throwing at me coming up a curve
Swing & miss, Swing & miss
Swing & miss and then you're out
Chorus