Back in those heavy times when everything was so far out
Our words were but a whisper, the mans were but a shout
Flower power was spreading, and everything was out of sight
Preaching peace through out the days, and gettin our groove on into the night
But we were always gettin hassled, by the fuzz, the man, the pigs
They didn't want us smokin doobies, and flashin peace signs, can ya dig?
Then peace and love had flourished, we needed to get funky and do our thing
We needed a place to get our groove on, so the discos were the scene
The threads we wore back then were styling, some were off the hook!
It's hard to believe with the slim bread we made, we could carry that funky look?
Bellbottoms, platform shoes, and jump suits people were a cravin
Boogieing away the nights in the discos, where the lights were just a blazin
Then the foxy chicks started getting pregoed, and the discos no longer Dyno-mite!
Men needed to start makin more bread, and trying to live the family life
But gigs weren't easy to find, and life became somewhat of a drag
Some of the dudes skipped town, leaving the foxy mamas holding the bag
Well thats the skinny of the seventies, the lowdown of peoples ways
So keep on truckin all you cool cats and foxy mamas
And remember all those ~Freaky, ~Far Out, ~Out Of Sight days