Where It's At - Beck

There’s a destination a little up the road

From the habitations and the towns we know

A place we saw the lights turn low

With the jig-saw jazz and the get-fresh flow

Pulling out jives and jamboree handouts

Two turntables and a microphone

Bottles and cans just clap your hands just clap your hands

Where it’s at I got two turntables and a microphone

Where it’s at I got two turntables and a microphone

Where it’s at I got two turntables and a microphone

Where it’s at I got two turntables and a microphone

Take me home in my elevator bones

Pick yourself up off the side of the road

With your elevator bones and your whip-flash tones

Members only

Hypnotizers move through the womb like ambulance drivers

Shining shoes with your microphone blues

Here-suits with your parachute fruits

Passing the dutchie from coast to coast

Let the man get loose while I rock the most

Where it’s at I got two turntables and a microphone

Where it’s at I got two turntables and a microphone

What about those who swing both ways, AC-DC's

Let’s make it out, baby

Two turntables and a microphone

Two turntables and a microphone

Two turntables and a microphone

Two turntables and a microphone

Two turntables and a microphone

Two turntables and a microphone

Where it’s at I got two turntables and a microphone

Where it’s at I got two turntables and a microphone