Heydays, yesterdays, everydays and far aways
Superyobs incarnate, resplendent and uncouth
Noddy sings right all the words he spells wrong
Slade Alive – it’s a mis-spelt youth
Long hair, big flares, platform boots and glitter wear
Songs to stomp along to, we’re gonna raise the roof
Top twenty run down, every Tuesday dinner time
Slade Alive – it’s a mis-spelt youth
Muttonchops voicebox – on Top of The Pops
Down to earth supremacy, they never were aloof
Thursday night kings with their feet in the crowds
Slade Alive – it’s a mis-spelt youth
Can’t ignore the Yob Four and the football corwd roar
Play it loud, play it proud, the message and the truth
The past and the present and the future in one song
Slade Alive – it’s a mis-spelt youth
Following the hollering, the old, the new, the borrowing
The blue and the balladry, the lasting living proof
That the mood and melody was not the sound of mellowing
Slade Alive – it’s a mis-spelt youth
Hard hitting, teeth gritting, wit pitting, shit kicking
Not for the boys – a wacky, tacky spoof
The grin and the glam and the fame and the Flame
Slade Alive – it’s a mis-spelt youth
Never failing cocktail, rock and roll and brown ale
Never out of time or too long in the tooth
Turn up the volume, feel the noise and shake the room
Slade Alive – it’s a mis-spelt youth