Buddy Holly’s dungarees encrusted with semen
Rife with disease
I was there when the plane went down
Richie Valens, Big Boppa, gee, we really missed ya
Since you not been around anymore, anyway, anyhow, nowhere, nevermind
Kurt Cobain, what a punk
Blew his mind, ultimate trip
Used and discarded by a big company that didn’t care didn’t care about me and you except one’s and zeros
What happened to the real rock ‘n’ roll heroes
Jerry Lee Lewis was called ‘The Killer’
Not because he wanted to off himself
Like Alex a young Droog
Because he could play that piano and put you in the mood
Arthur Fonzarelli, Spiderman, Eric Clapton, Green Lantern
More fictional characters
Don’t mean nothing
Jibber Jabber
A rat-a-tat-tat
Ball the jack
Jump back
Kiss yourself
Hit that spot
Snatch it back
Time to get real
Time to pull back the covers
Stretch out and gimme some room
Jimi Hendrix, Mama Cass, Jim Morrison
More foolish, misguided, wannabe artists, using up valuable space
Still making money for somebody
like Che Guevara and Ronald McDonald,
Ronald Mcdonald? go ask Old Mcdonald
A Hamburger is made from a dead animal
A hamburger is not something for children top play with
Used to be blood in those veins and air coming in and out
Needs to be something real, underneath all the make-believe
Needs to be something real on top of the real
Stretch out
Snatch it back
And jump back
Rock on my brothers
Rock and Roll my sisters
And get down
And get down |
Writers: Jon Spencer / Matt Verta-Ray
