33 1/3 - Lyr

Thirty three and a third

They forced the door

And found in the bedsit

A pulsing hook line

And a diamond on vynil

The arms still plowing

The run out spiral

The lost module

A cartridge and stylus

In a captured orbit

Around the spindle

A looped circling

Well pooling Swansong

And died as they craned up

The weightless needle

And lowering down on the rope that he swang from

(Ohhh, Uhhhh, Ohhhhh)

They forced the door

And found in the bedsit

The pulsing hook line

And a diamond on vynil

The arms still plowing

The run out spiral

The lost module

A cartridge and stylus

In a captured orbit around the spindle

A loopd circling well pooling Swangsong

And died as they crand up

The weightless needle

And lowering down on the rope that he swang from

Thirty three and a third

Thirty three and a third

Thirty three and a third

They forced the door

And found in the bedsit

The pulsing hook line

And a diamond on vynil

The arms still plowing

The run out spiral

The lost module

A cartridge and stylus

In a captured orbit around the spindle

A looped circling well pooling Swangsong

And died as they craned up

The weightless needle

And lowering down on the rope that he swang from