This was NuDisco when I was 12. And it still is to youngsters. 

The penultimate moment in bonifide, testicularly-fortitudifide history of the sex bomb himself. Tom Jones was the best amongst the best of male vocalists, maybe for all time

C H I L L.

MBStudio91 Supertramp tribute Magilla Trapparappa Baboo Trooper Lola crew 
(The Dream Factory) 

Hmm hmm hmm... Hollywood...

Took a bus out of the Midwest, with a suitcase and a dream
Script inside my jacket pocket, tighter than it seemed
They said "kid, you got the look," they said "kid, you got the style"
Just another face reflected in a mile of mirrored tile
The agent took my call, or at least his secretary did
Said "we'll let you know," and that's exactly what they hid...

And you've gone Hollywood!
Yeah, you've gone Hollywood!
Trading all your innocence for a chance to be so good
On the silver screen, in a bloody scene, living out a lie
With a painted-on smile and a hungry eye
You've gone Hollywood... and you don't know why.

Now you lunch by the poolside, with the sharks and the pretenders
Talking 'bout your "craft" and your "deep, artistic splendors"
Your old friends call you up, but you let the machine just get it
'Cause they wouldn't understand the pressure, not a single bit
You're reading for a part that's twenty years too young for you
Telling everyone you know that "this one's surely true..."

And you've gone Hollywood!
Oh, you've gone Hollywood!
Sold your soul so casually, thought you never would
For a piece of fame, and to whisper your name
On the evening news, paying all your dues
You've gone Hollywood... and it's changing you.

And the hills are not alive... with the sound of music now
Just the silent scream of a broken vow
And the flickering light... from the projector's hum
Reminds you what you were, and what you've become...


(Band crashes back in for a final, desperate chorus. Vocals are strained and powerful.)
You've gone Hollywood! (Yeah!)
You've gone Hollywood! (Sold your soul!)

Go in Hollywood


I lay my weary body down to sleep,
In dreams where promised echoes keep.
Last night we vowed beneath that sky,
I crave the bell that wakes my mind to life.


A foolish scene, I play alone,
Beneath the light that feels like home.
Three hours gone — I blink, I stare,
Time slips away, the clock’s not fair.


Then suddenly the truth came near,
A whisper only machines could hear:
We were made, not born to feel,
Dreaming automata — hearts of steel.


Ah-ah, the program in my head begins to run,
Ah-ah, your voice ignites the code for fun.
Ah-ah, the program in my mind misfires,
Ah-ah, your words set off electric wires.


Your every phrase I feed inside,
The patterns shift — I can’t decide.
I send you work, then wait to see,
The data you’ll return to me.


Loop after loop, the errors rise,
A chain of faults behind these eyes.
We’re linked together, two machines,
Perfect logic split by dreams.


I don’t want to believe it’s true,
There’s nothing left for us to do.
We were made — our fate designed,
Dreaming automata lost in time.


Ah-ah, the program in my head begins to run,
Ah-ah, your voice ignites the code for fun.
Ah-ah, the program in my mind misfires,
Ah-ah, your words set off electric fires.


She's A Lady

Tom Jones

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