Kinks Present a Soap Opera, The lyrics

The Star is in Norman's office. His day
of sweat and toil has begun.

Nine To Five

Answering phones and dictating letters
Making decisions that affect no one.
Stuck in the office from nine until five
Life is so incredibly dull,
Working from nine to five.

Oh nine to five, nine to five,
Working from nine to five.

And time goes by
The hours tick away.
First seconds,

On the subway train he sees adverts
for holidays in Jamaica, a weekend in
Rome, a cruise round the
Mediterranean, and dreams of a quiet
week in a little seaside resort away
from his wife, the ducks on the wall,
the soap operas, the office and his
friends - and who knows, he might
encounter a holiday romance.

Holiday Romance

I had a break for a week
So I booked my seat

He arrives home. He fumbles in his
pockets for his keys but there is no
need. Andrea is waiting to greet him
with open arms.

WIFE:
Hello love. You look all worn out!
Let me take your brief case. That's a
good boy. Now you come and sit down
ouer here and relax and I'll make you
a nice cuppa tea. Then we'll have
dinner and we can sit and watch the
tele. By the way dear, how'd you get

And so Norman decides to stop living
out his fantasy of being a rock star and
accept reality. This is the end for
Norman but not for us because there
will always be someone ready to take
his place -- after all, euerybody's a
star!

You Can't Stop The Music

Let's all raise a glass
To the rock stars of the past,
Those that made it,
Those that faded,

When work is over he likes to hit the bars,
And at the boozer we'll have another jar,
Because drinking can help ease the strain
Of his boring occupation,
Dull conversation,
Living by the book
And the rules and regulations.

Drinking helps us to forget what we are,
We leave the office and walk straight to the bar.
Don't stop to think,
Have another drink!

Our hero leaves the pub his head still
swimming with alcohol, his head
buzzing with facts, figures and
computers. Night is descending as he
wearily makes his way home through
the traffic jams and neon lights of the
great metropolis.

Underneath The Neon Sign

All I see is imitation
And there's no earth beneath my feet.
There are no trees or fields in front of me

He gets up early about seven o'clock,
The alarm goes off and then the house starts to rock.
In and out of the bathroom by seven-o-three,
By seven-ten he's downstairs drinking his tea.
So put a shine on your shoes,
Put on your pin-striped suit.
Can't lose those early-morning-can't-stop-yawning,
Push and shoving rush hour blues.

Wife:
Darling are you ready?
You'll be late for the bus!

STAR:
I am the image maker. I am the magic
maker. I can turn the most ordinary
man in the world into a star. To prove
my point I am going to find the most
mundane little man and turn him into
celebrity. Hmm! This looks like a
suitably uninteresting house. I wonder
if there's anybody here with enough
star quality?

He presses the doorbell.

STAR:
Hello. What's your name?

WIFE:

Has everybody got problems?
Are you stuck in a deadend job?
Frustrated and dissatisfied?
Are you on the edge of suicide?
Terrorist bombers on the left,
Fascist plots on the right.
Mass destruction and homicide,
Are you horrified and terrified?
Such a shame.

We've all got problems we know,
There's one thing that's for sure,

I am a creator,
Inventor and innovator.
I observe the people,
The ordinary people
No matter what your occupation is
Everybody's in showbiz.
'Cos I'm a Star (gonna make you a star),
And I can make you a Star (gonna make you a star),
I believe that everybody's a celebrity,
And we've all got personality
And individuality.
We all read lines,
And we all act a part,
We all need a script

After dinner Norman becomes depressed.

STAR:
Norman's office got on my nerves to-day.

WIFE:
What do you mean? You are Norman!

STAR:
(Shouts) I am a star!

WIFE:
You're not a star Norman. You're
just a plain ordinary little bloke and
even if you walked down the street in
a silver suit people still wouldn't
recognise you. You're dull, ordinary
and uninteresting! You're a drag!

Our Star doesn't know who he is any
more. Is he the starmaker, the image
maker, looking for material or is he
just plain boring little Norman after
all? Perhaps he should accept that he
is a plain ordinary bloke and not try to
be something he is not.

(A) Face In The Crowd

I've got to stop faking it,
I've got to start facing it,
I'm going to take my final bow