The Curse (of Rock'n'Roll)

I know what I want, and I don’t want that
Man it’s full of dust, un used as a jar of coppers
Or a choc tea pot
Man I don’t like it baggy, too wobbly, too soft
Just a giant marshmallow Moomin,
That’s bald as a cue ball, polished,
Sliding off this earth,
When the sickness takes you, you can’t control your mouth
So milk the cow wile it’s grazing, wile its shitting cash.

But that’s the curse of Rock’n’Roll
Just the curse of Rock’n’Roll

I don’t want what I got, and I got a lot
Of cheap little fluff, something pretty to lube my ego
And keep the old “mojo rizin”
Before it starts to rust.
Before I turn into a useless codger
Buried in the earth
And when I’m bored of looking, all the lust has gone
Picking fights over shitty nothing, before I pay you off
Try making hay wile it’s fucking raining, that shit just doesn’t work.

But that’s the curse of Rock’n’Roll
Just the curse of Rock’n’Roll

So keep it real, or keep it silent., before they knock you off.
So don’t fuck with the crystal, cocoa,
Or a Kalashnikov,
When the hip-hop hits you, and you shoot off your mouth.
Going out like a dancing rag doll, as death carts you away.
Trapped between the heavens,
And the gates of hell,
Looks like no one wants you, so they sent you back,
To the world that dissed you, man that’s got to suck!

But that’s the curse of Rock’n’Roll
Just the curse of Rock’n’Roll

(c) Alex Kyriacou 20-3-2009