Fusty’s Fabulous 80s Dream

By Steve Cleverley and Sanj Sen

Snuggle up, close your eyes… and relax. Tonight we’re travelling back to EightiesVille, to hang out with a very (ahem) trendy little Moshling, called Fusty.

(How far, how far, how far)

Fusty is a Fungi, a Moshling with a story

He loves to dream about the past, his fun-filled days of glory

See, once upon a time he was a player on the scene

In a decade known for fun and games, and lots more in between

Fusty comes from EightiesVille, a town that most agree…

Was awesome many years ago; the happening place to be

Everything was colourful and Moshlings had big hair

And all of them played video games, while music filled the air

Moshlings all wore crazy clothes with giant shoulder pads

And ripped holes in their hand-me-downs from Moshi moms and dads

Fusty loved to pose and preen and play his synthesizer

And tease his hair around his very trendy pink sun visor

So now when he feels sleepy and it’s time to go to bed

He thinks back to the old days and replays them in his head

The problem is he wakes up wishing time had not moved on

So tonight he’s trying to steer his dreams to find out what’s gone wrong

Those sweet dreams, how far we’ve come

Those sweet dreams, how far we’ve come

Fusty’s fast asleep now and dreaming of the time

When EightiesVille was in full swing and he was in his prime

In his dream he’s posing in the street and looking slick

While talking on a cell phone that’s bigger than a brick

He ends the call as twilight falls, it’s getting pretty late

And heads towards the town square on his rainbow roller skates

He dons a pair of headphones, attached to a big box

That plays his favourite mixtape… this new tech really rocks!

Fusty’s knows he’s dreaming, so he tries to guide his mind

Toward a friend he hopes can help him leave his past behind

This wise pal’s name is HipHop, always keen to lend a hand

And Fusty hopes he’ll guide him, even though he’s in dreamland

Those sweet dreams, how far we’ve come

Those sweet dreams, how far we’ve come

Fusty’s in the town square now, searching for his friend

And as he looks he wonders why this decade had to end?

A store that rents out movies is packed with new releases

As a flock of seagulls play nearby, creating masterpieces

There’s something in the air tonight, of that there is no doubt

It’s HipHop strolling through the square, with music blaring out

Fusty greets him warmly and the friends sit down and chat

Then Fusty asks why modern life feels dull and rather flat

“Every bedtime when I sleep, I dream of this decade

The tunes we played, the clothes we wore, and all the friends I made

I wake up wishing modern life was the just like in the past

So that is why I’ve sought you in my dreams to talk and ask”

Those sweet dreams, how far we’ve come

Those sweet dreams, how far we’ve come

HipHop says to Fusty, “You’re right, these were the days

But things move on and life today’s improved in endless ways

Mullets aren’t as cool now and music’s changed a lot

But modern life is wonderful, just think of all you’ve got…

“Reminscing’s fabulous, reliving stuff is fun 

But the only time you should look back is to see how far you’ve come”

Fusty smiles at HipHop and says, “You know, you’re right”

EightiesVille was wonderful but my future’s really bright

“I need to wave the past goodbye, it won’t come back again

But before this dream is over, let’s stroll down memory lane”

The friends high five and start to drift through Fusty’s Eighties dream

They don’t know where they’re heading… but they sure know where they’ve been

Those sweet dreams, how far we’ve come

Those sweet dreams, how far we’ve come

Fusty and his HipHop pal are floating through the streets

Past station wagons, shopping malls and colorful boutiques

Then they drift through cabbage patches, filled with funny dolls

As pencils rain from moonlit skies, topped by shock-haired trolls

Next they’re in a concert hall and Fusty’s on the stage

Wearing cut off denims (which back then were all the rage)

Moshlings in the audience wear fingerless neon gloves

There’s not a smartphone to be seen, which Fusty really loves

Fusty’s dream continues and the good times never waver

For now he’s in a games arcade, playing Moshi Invaders

Fusty takes a sip of slush from HipHop’s giant cup

And vows that when it comes to fun… he’s never gonna give it up

Those sweet dreams, how far we’ve come

Those sweet dreams, how far we’ve come

Back here in the present, Fusty’s in his bed

His dream of life in EightiesVille now fading from his head

The wise words HipHop offered him are etched upon his mind

And now he knows it’s better to fast-forward than rewind

Falling into deep sleep now, Fusty starts to snore

And feels more calm and mellow than he’s ever felt before

When he wakes he’ll still love all those things from way back when

But knows those days are over and he won’t see them again

He’ll dream of them from time to time but focus on the future

And if he wants to reminisce… well, he’ll look on his computer

But from now on Fusty’s letting history lay to rest

And knows the moments yet to come are sure to be his best

Goodnight.