Been out all night, I needed a biteI thought I'd put a record onI reached for the one with the ultra-modern labelAnd wondered where the light had goneIt had a futuristic coverLifted straight from Buck RogersThe record was so black it had to be a conThe autochanger switched as I filled my sandwichAnd futuristic sounds warbled off and onChorus :The Black Hit Of SpaceIt's the one without a faceIt's the one that doesn't fitYou can only see the flipThe Black Hit Of SpaceSucking in the human raceHow can it stay at the topWhen it's swallowed all the shops?As the song climbed the chartsThe others disappeared'Til there was nothing but it left to buyIt got to number oneThen into minus figuresThough nobody could understand why(Chorus)I couldn't stand this bland sound any more so I walked towards my deck toturn it off. All I could see was the B-side of the disc which had assumed adoughnut shape with the label on the outside rim. I reached for the armwhich was less than one micron long but weighed more than Saturn and timestood still. I knew I had to escape but every time I tried to flee, therecord was in front of me.The Black Hit Of SpaceGet James Burke on the caseIt's the hit that's never goneTime stops when you put it...