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Rock Is Dead |
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My mothers dead, but who really cares?
Won’t go to the funeral, I’d rather rock!
Father lost his job, my sister’s in the jail!
They can suck my Montovani
I’m gonna rock!
Rock, rock, rock ‘n’ roll
Rock and roll yer buns off!
Crash, pound, rip your guitar until you fingers bleed!
Up, up blast yer amp, until your woofers melt!
Rock, kill, let the rhythms make your brain recede!
Rock Is Dead Copyright 1978 Morrison, Olver, Raines, Mock
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