This song was originally written by a guy called Peter Gutteridge. He was one of the founders of the "Dunedin Sound" a musical scene in the south of New Zealand in the early 80s. From there it was covered by "The Clean" one of the early bands of that scene (he had originally been a member of in it's early days, writing a couple of their best early songs). The Dunedin sound, and the Clean became popular on american college radio in the mid to late 80s. I guess Yo La Tengo heard that version.
Great version of a great song,
Da dum
Da dum
Da dum
Da dum
S-s-suddenly there's a knock at your head
Don't let them in because they'll try to take your TV set
Ha-ha-ha-happiness is a ball in your hand
You've got to try and throw this party just as far as you can
Cre-cre-cre-creosote is pouring out of my brain
I swear I heard the floor boards they were creaking your name
G-g-get a room, get a head, get a hat
We're going to hell anyway lets travel first class
Cut through the city on a Saturday night
Watching the boys on their motorbikes
I wanna be like those guys
I wanna wear my clothes tight
With matching jackets and a fistful of notes
New sneakers, and a fresh pack of smokes
P-p-pneumothorax is a word that is long
They're just trying to put some punk back into punctured lung
P-p-p-panic over, party off, party on
'Cause we are birds of a feather and you can be the fat one
Come to the city on a Saturday night
Over your heads like a satellite
I wanna see what they see
I wanna love you like crazy
Those cameras are pointing right in your face
Can see into your room from outer space
Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh
Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh
Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh
Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh
Cut through the city on a Saturday night
It's not the size of the man in the fight
I wanna know what that does
I wanna show what matters
Cause it's the size of the fight in the man
That makes the difference and decides who is champ
Cut through the city on a Saturday night
'Cause you and me are we're on the edge of the knife
Cut through the city on a Saturday night
I asked your mother and she said it's alright
We'll get married when we're thirty
I want to do it on your birthday
'Cause I don't wanna waste a moment with you
I just wanna dance the whole night through
Cut through the city on a Saturday night
'Cause you and me, we're on the edge of a knife
Da dum
Da dum
Da dum
S-s-suddenly there's a knock at your head
Don't let them in because they'll try to take your TV set
Ha-ha-ha-happiness is a ball in your hand
You've got to try and throw this party just as far as you can
Cre-cre-cre-creosote is pouring out of my brain
I swear I heard the floor boards they were creaking your name
G-g-get a room, get a head, get a hat
We're going to hell anyway lets travel first class
Cut through the city on a Saturday night
Watching the boys on their motorbikes
I wanna be like those guys
I wanna wear my clothes tight
With matching jackets and a fistful of notes
New sneakers, and a fresh pack of smokes
P-p-pneumothorax is a word that is long
They're just trying to put some punk back into punctured lung
P-p-p-panic over, party off, party on
'Cause we are birds of a feather and you can be the fat one
Come to the city on a Saturday night
Over your heads like a satellite
I wanna see what they see
I wanna love you like crazy
Those cameras are pointing right in your face
Can see into your room from outer space
Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh
Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh
Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh
Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh
Cut through the city on a Saturday night
It's not the size of the man in the fight
I wanna know what that does
I wanna show what matters
Cause it's the size of the fight in the man
That makes the difference and decides who is champ
Cut through the city on a Saturday night
'Cause you and me are we're on the edge of the knife
Cut through the city on a Saturday night
I asked your mother and she said it's alright
We'll get married when we're thirty
I want to do it on your birthday
'Cause I don't wanna waste a moment with you
I just wanna dance the whole night through
Cut through the city on a Saturday night
'Cause you and me, we're on the edge of a knife
Lyrics submitted by Contristo, edited by legislacerator, darkeyelewj, gravethief13
Saturday Night Lyrics as written by Charles Richard Wilson Andrew Robert White
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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Hahaha, what the hell?