Lyrics
In the halls of the old local yokel hotelsRevenue for the venue, the cover band sellsAll the Saturday dimwits are out on their prowlsWith the sport of oblivious bimbo night owlsRock and roll for the tokenStill broke, and still blue in the ballsInto one drunken ear, and plum straight through his headSixteen pitchers of beer, making plans for her bedThe republican strippers are licking their lipsPicking locks and uncocking boys' zippers and hipsRock and roll for the tokenStill broke, and still blue in the ballsBaby t-shirt, tattoos and your pacifierBaby teeth are coming in, and your pants are on fireAll the dance floor romantics are whipping it outThey're the sloppiest kissers but scrappy, no doubtTo the backseats of carsOn their birthday suit missions to MarsHip-hooray for The GipperGive that plastic tit cheerleader a callRock and roll for the tokenStill broke, and still blue in the balls
