R-O-C-K, R-O-C-K, rock Taking R from an eight to the bar eighty-eight O from the told of the sax syncopated C from the key of the six-strings guitar
In a bar Johnny drinks Johnny drinks Johnnie Walker Runs up a bill he can't pay He's drinking to the memory Of a prince in a paupers grave And it's go
As a child I went wild when a band played How I ran to the man when his hand swayed Clarinets were my pets and a slide trombone I thought was simply divine
go The boys start (joint gets) rockin', your knees start knockin' Everybody party, go Let's go The bar's closed down (it's 3 o'clock and the bar's closed
homes, you had too much to drink (Cut it out) This bout's set for twelve rounds of pain Tequila limes and salt, these cats hard to hang Sixteen bar
. Denn wir machen jetzt 'ne Band auf Und wir nennen uns J.B.O." J.B.O. ? so geht's nich weiter J.B.O. ? jetzt kommen wir, J.B.O. ? wir machen hier was
Band auf Und wir nennen uns J.B.O." J.B.O. - so geht's nicht weiter J.B.O. - jetzt kommen wir, J.B.O. - wir machen hier was los Forever J.B.O. Denn
out To Sick Of It All, Agnostic Front Crown of Thornz, Dgeneration DJ Ansen, Dave Hillyard and the Rocksteady 7 Simon and the Bar Sinisters, Nine Lives And his new band
band rehearsing in it. JOE (the main character in the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER'S Special Presentation) sings to us of the trials and tribulations of garage-band
'm saying if you gonna retire, then hand me the crown Nah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a concert in Madison square Watch everybody sleep through it We can go bar for bar
saying if you gonna retire, then hand me the crown Nah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a concert in Madison square Watch everybody sleep through it We can go bar for bar
, blue jeans skin tight Nine o'clock dance hall, walking in, struttin' tall Lookin' so good, boys scratchin' on the eight ball Belly up to the bar, Cuervo
And the Indians make you a rug or two And the old Bar X is the Barbecue Oh, yippee-i-o-ki-ay, hey yippee-i-o-ki-ay Hey yippee-i-o-ki-ay I'm just an old
place to park Show me to the bar, take my keys away, it's time to play Then it's beer bong hangin' from the hayloft Jell-O shooters with Smirnoff Long
a souvenir, but it was a right arm missing Swap a woodwork rhythm for a humbucking top line Big Riff, rough boy, wants to be a singer in a band A little
Well it's nine o'clock on a saturday, The regular crowd shuffles in. There's an old man sitting next to me, Making love to his tonic and gin. He says "
out X-rating We were the first band to vomit in the bar And find the distance to the stage too far Meanwhile it's getting late at ten o'clock Rock is
Band Uh, I don't know it's, it's just a thing with me you know If I see somethin' that I like, it's a, I have to go for it And I like what I see, baby