Two Little Hitlers

Why are we racing to be so old?
 I'm up late pacing the floor
 I won't be told
 You have your reservations
 I'm bought and sold
 I'll face the music
 I'll face the facts
 Even when we walk in polka dots and chequer slacks
 Bowing and squawking
 Running after titbits
 Bobbing and squinting
 Just like a nitwit
 Two little Hitlers will fight it out until
 One little Hitler does the other one's will
 I will return
 I will not burn
 Down in the basement
 I need my head examined
 I need my eyes excited
 I'd like to join the party
 But I was not invited
 You make a member of me
 I'll be delighted
 I wouldn't cry for lost souls, you might drown
 Dirty words for dirty minds
 Written in a toilet town
 Dial me a Valentine
 She's a smooth operator
 It's all so calculated
 She's got a calculator
 She's my soft touch typewriter
 And I'm the great dictator
 Two little Hitlers will fight it out until
 One little Hitler does the other one's will
 I will return
 I will not burn
 A simple game of self-respect
 You flick a switch and the world goes off
 Nobody jumps as you expect
 I would have thought you would have had enough by now
 You call selective dating
 For some effective mating
 I thought I'd let you down, dear
 But you were just deflating
 I knew right from the start
 We'd end up hating
 Pictures of the merchandise
 Plastered on the wall
 We can look so long as we don't have to talk at all
 You say you'll never know him
 He's an unnatural man
 He doesn't want your pleasure
 He wants as no one can
 He wants to know the names of
 All those he's better than
 Two little Hitlers will fight it out until
 One little Hitler does the other one's will
 I will return
 I will not burn
 Down in the basement
 I will return
 I will not burn
 I will return
 I will not burn
 I will return
 I will not burn...