Lyrics:

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha woo!

Gimme the sound and I'll make sure you're a hit son.
Gimme the sound of the young men plaguing the day.

A come oooooooon... ow.
Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh-oh-oh.

I can relate--did I tell you I was a DJ?
I used to follow the Mondays back in the day.
Tell me, have you ever thought about writing in Scotland?
I know a big time producer-man out in LA.

You've been to college, you know the score.
The world is waiting for that knock at the door.
You need a ticket? You need a ride?
Give us a marvel, you'll have two on the side.
Three car commercial, 4 on the floor...
Just go through last year's trash and give us some more.
Things didn't work out the last time around, but just give us a moment and gimme the sound.

A come oooooooon... ow.
Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh-oh-oh.

This one's to measured, the one's too lite.
Too esoteric for a Saturday nite.
Maybe a cover? (Tiga you whore)
Maybe we get Paul Epworth runnin' the board?
It's just those tan brown creepers man how they lie,
It's just those tan brown creepers trying to get inside, uh huh.

Come on and give it to me--all the things you want to.
Come on and give it to me--all the things you can.
Come on and give it to me--I know you want to.
Come on and give it to me--all the things you can.
Come on and give it to me--all the things you want to.
Come on and give it to me... all of the things you can.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha woo!