Scrapheap City - The Kinks

There ain’t no beauty

And there ain’t no style,

There’s no quality

And there’s no purity.

Honour’s dead and buried

Because it’s unnecessary.

Look at all the people,

Why they all look the same.

They’re walking to the factory

In their cloth caps and trilbies.

They’ve got no style,

Ain’t it a pity.

They’re tearing old quality down

Without any pity,

Now they’re coming to take me away

To scrapheap city.

They say that good manners belong on a heap,

They say they’re outdated and they’re obsolete,

And now they’re coming to take me away

To scrapheap city.

There’s no quality

And there ain’t no style

Just miles and miles

Of scrapheap piles.

There’s no quality

And there’s no purity.

They’re digging up all of the flowers

Because they look pretty

And erecting identical concrete monstrosities.

They’re killing off all of the animals too,

The only ones left are the ones in the zoo.

Now they’re coming to take me away

To scrapheap city.

Ain’t it a pity,

Scrapheap city.