Well we're all packed up and we're Iroquois bound, tuning our ears for the F.M. sound. We got a million problems, we're on our way, 44th, New York, U.S.A.
That big crazy city don't blink an eye, anytime we pass by. It just keeps strechting up so high, like a rocket, shooting, to the sky. Iroquois ! Iroquois !
Special Branch got their feelers out, our names and addresses 'cos we're in doubt. Down the corridor, keep in lane, find the worst seats on the plane.
Find a tacky statue three inches high, dirty rain falls from a dirty sky. On the corner of the street there's a big black fella' .. trying to sell me an umberalla.
Get the Kraut boys round for a smoke an' a beer, there's gotta be a pizza delivery near. Call the barf patrol, there's a stain on the floor, a weeks P.D's for the bathroom floor.
