Salutations, boys and girls, And welcome to the modern world, And the splendid stinking mess that the Others left behind. Them who stood to curse the gods, Have built an altar to themselves And they've squandered all our hopes and Stole our piece of mind
Well, they're swindlers and they're thieves, And they're big celebrities!
Let's kill all the rock stars, Let's line the fuckers up, And shoot the fuckers down. I'm pissed off and I'm bored, With all these corporate whores, Let's kill all the rock stars, Put 'em six feet in the ground.
Them hippie-dippy hypocrites With a P.T. Barnum bag of shit, And the artist formerly known as a man I could admire And here comes princess smarty-pants, With a limousine and a grand pretense, And the radio plays the same old shit, over And over and over and over...
And as I stare in disbelief She flicks a perfumed handkerchief.
Let's kill all the rock stars, Let's line the fuckers up, And shoot the fuckers down. Yeah, someone's gotta pay For all the shit I've had to take, Let's kill all the rock stars Put 'em six feet in the ground.
And in the pits of Hell, Elvis lifts his pointy tail, And he pulls a hunk of burnin' love out of his ass. And as they force it in the face Of one of his dead proteges, Elvis waits impatiently for the next one's life to pass.
Coked-up, coughing, whining, wheezing, Pan-cake make-up, bloated, bleeding! Let's kill all the rock stars, Let's line the fuckers up, And shoot the fuckers down. I'm sick of all the hype And all the bullshit artsy tripe. Let's kill all the rock stars Put 'em six feet in the ground