Rock Must Die Lyrics - 70's Rock Must Die - Lard

I was cruisin' in a car 

Down Melrose Boulevard 

When I stopped all the traffic 

I was laughin' so hard 

Standin' on the corner 

Was this rock n roll dude 

In leather pants thinkin' he was cool 

He had the jacket 

He had the shades 

Farrah Fawcett hair 

Or was that a wig 

Face like a turtle 

Trying in vain to look stoned 

You could tell he'd been practicing 

At home in the mirror 

He'd probably been posing like that all day 

Didn't matter that is was a hundred degrees 

In the shade 

Well c'mawn, well c'mawn 

Seventies rock must die 

Well c'mawn, well c'mawn 

Seventies rock must die 

Bogus bands, plastic rock stars 

Stupid clothes and the worst made cars 

Country rock making us all sick 

While John Travolta wags his double-knit prick 

Being a teen back than 

Man, it was a drag 

Bicentennial and no one burned the flag 

You think we live in pretty desperate times 

When people wanna go back to nineteen seventy five 

My Saturday Night Fever fantasy 

Lock the Bee Gees in a Pinto 

And ram it from the rear 

Burn, baby 

Well c'mawn, well c'mawn 

Seventies rock must die 

Well c'mawn, well c'mawn 

Seventies rock must die 

Suck my ego, pay to play 

Got nothing more to say 

As we sell you a stairway to boredom 

Look around at the hip people 

Set in their ways 

Reaching back to the things they used to say they hate 

Young old brats playing fossil rock 

Pistols reunions pass for rebellion 

Radio and TV gettin' to damn bland 

With collegiate boy Neil Young copy bands 

Underground's becoming an alternative joke 

Even Aerosmith hates all the Aerosmith clones 

I know they don't make 'em like the Son of Sam 

But even punks wanna go back to seventy seven 

Well c'mawn, well c'mawn 

Seventies rock must die 

Well c'mawn, well c'mawn 

Seventies rock must die