(N. FinnT. Finn)

there's junk mail in my letterbox

and all the catalogues

I can't wait to buy it

no matter what it costs

the whistle of the sniper

the crashing of the bombs

put a spring back in my step

keeps me feeling young

and this shopping is a curse

everytime it's getting worse

I got bullets in my hairdo

the hairs on my shirt

many ways to spend your money

there's not a lot to choose

the tanks are rolling over

my hundred dollar shoes

you can never find a taxi

to drive you into town

I'm always in a hurry

I won't go underground

and this shopping is a curse

every time it's getting worse

I got bullets in my Hairdo

and holes in my purse

all quiet on the street

silence breathing down

bullets in my hairdo

jewels in my crown

and this shopping is a curse

every time it's getting worse

I got bullets in my hairdo

and holes in my skirt