Lyrics:

1971, we all heard the starters gun
New York is such a pity
But at Max's Kansas City we won

We all shot the shit at the bar
With Johnny O' Toole and his scar
And then old Clive Davis said
He's surely gonna make us a star
I'm gonna make you a star
Just the way you are

But with all his style
I could see in his eyes
That we is goin' on trial
And it was no surprize

The boys kept kickin' ass
As usual time would tell
But some bitch in the choir
Throw water on the fires of hell
She loved to show and tell
Lord, she loved to tell

But with all our style
You could see in our eyes
That we is still on trial
And it was no surprize
No surprize
No surprize
No surprize

Midnight lady
Situation fetal
Vaccinate your ass with your phonograph needle

I say looky here
Friend of mine
You scratch like you need calamine
Flamingo boots, soles a creakin'
Still in love and Puerto Rican too

Ridin' on wheels of hell
Smokin' our axle grease
Oh, the backstage is rockin'
And we're coppin' from the local police
That's right, the local police
Or the juctice of peace

But with all our style
You could see in our eyes
That we is still on trial
Baby, it's no surprize
No surprize
No surprize
No surprize

Rock n' roll, junkie whore
Got my foot inside the door
Knock knock, knock knock, knock
Nobody's keepin' score

Bad times go away
Come again some other day
Topaz and sazzafraz
Will keep the blues away

Candy store, rock n' roll
Corporation jellyroll
Play the singles, it ain't me
It's programmed insanity

You ASCAP, if BMI
Could ever make a mountain fly
If Japanese can boil teas
Then where the fuck's my royalties...aar
Yak yak yak yak 'oow