He's a scab by day and a low life scum at nite
He Hangs around the rock and roll club what a pitiful sight,
Where the girls dress like Ronstad and the boys dress like Billy Joel,
an' burning out at 20 seems to be their only goal.
An' There's a certain paranoia in their imitation,
an' a certain psychosis in his invitation,
as he staggers through the bar, and tries to pick a fight.
[chorus] Hey, buddy, do you know any AC/DC,
Hey, buddy, do you know that song by Styx,
Hey, buddy, do you want to do some PCP, now,
Hey, buddy, degenerate with me, now.
They put on the Stones and they claim to have a rock and roll party,
but pea-brained clones on the booze just act a bit retarded.
And it's: "Who's got busted and who's got bailed?".
And who's on their last ditch tear before they go off to jail?
Their heros are neurotic rock and role leeches.
Assholes with egos, their experience teaches,
that when you've got no brain cells, anything goes
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