Little Richard, Elvis Presley,
back in nineteen fifty six.
Shook Pandora's box with vengeance,
released the furies with their hips
No one plans an insurrection,
pent up feelings start to flow.
The big boys staged a fade out ending,
blame payola, stop the show

It ain't no soft machine...It ain't no soft machine...
It ain't no love fest hippie scene...It ain't no soft machine.
No. No.

You pay a high price for the keys to heaven, Norman Rockwell living room.
Roll snake eyes and then roll seven,
Whirlpool bath or you push a broom.
Perfumed scented fortune hunter,
Iron fist in a velvet glove.
Money talks and we all listen,
That's when push it comes to shove.

'Cause it ain't no soft machine...It ain't no soft machine...
It ain't no love fest hippie scene...It ain't no soft machine.
No. No.

Welcome to the Hotel Dreamland.
You can be anything you dream.
We're here to help you forget,
We're American machine.

Noble thoughts and mortal gestures,
coexist in a human heart.
When the soul is subdivided,
hail to science not to art.
In a kind and gentle season,
everyone is their own star.
In a black and white soap opera
Who you eat is what you are.

It ain't no soft machine...It ain't no soft machine...
It ain't no love fest hippie scene ...It ain't no soft machine.
It ain't no soft machine...It ain't no soft machine...
It ain't no love fest hippie scene ...It ain't no soft machine.
No. No.


Mo Digliani