Rock

James Staples

T Rex knew about dirty-sweet,

But kicking your can all over the street

Is Freddie’s lesson for hanging out,

So shake it up, baby. Twist and shout.

That shit you write up in your bedroom

Didn’t just come from out of a vacuum,

And before you trade your tears for fears

That you have to go back over fifty years,

Consider the ways and whys and hows and

Some of the stuff that goes back thousands,

Like, “Bup de-Bup de-Bup, de-BUP BUP!”

Think Bo Diddley made that shit up?

All your gothic doom and gloom and

Anger’s part of being human.

Murray the K said “Rock ‘n’ Roll” cuz

You can fuck and still have a soul.

Elvis didn’t work that out.

That’s just what he sang about.

Eddie Cochrane didn’t invent it;

Just passed it on from whoever sent it.

The beat goes back to that first Big Bang.

Ev’rything since is “just a thang,”

It’s just a gig.  It’s just the scene.

You know exactly what I mean.

The music biz is just a racket

For any fool in a leather jacket.

Corporate chumps got no juice with ‘em;

Got the bread, but got no rhythm.

Fuck that shit. You want to fly?

You have to make it D.I.Y.

The beat was yours when you were born,

But since that day they’ve had you torn

Between parents, duty, country, church,

And each one left you in the lurch.

They said they’d help you find your way

And everything would be okay

As long as you obey the ley

And don’t question author-i-tay.

Well, enter: My g-g-generation,

Custom Les Paul liberation,

Crazy, fucked-up mosh-pit nation:

Fucking punk rock infestation.

Fuck that other shit!  Rock ‘n’ Roll:

The only thing to save your soul.