He thinks he has a physique

That would turn a nun’s head;

When he struts down the street

All the traffic stops dead;

He’s the perfect example –

A true thoroughbred;

HE’S A ROCK GOD!

 

With a swish of his head

His locks sway to and fro;

He teases his fingers

Through them… real slow –

He hopes that the bald patch

Still doesn’t show –

HE’S A ROCK GOD!

 

His black leather trousers

Have seen better days –

He lives in the time

When they were the craze;

Now they’re so tight

It causes malaise;

HE’S A ROCK GOD!

 

He once had a big house

And he drove a Ferrari;

Liked the French Riviera,

And went on safari;

He drank ‘Don Perignon’

At many a soiree –

HE’S A ROCK GOD!

 

When he was on stage

He could make their hearts flutter;

Rock n roll music

Was his bread and butter –

Now he stays in the flat

That he shares with a nutter,

HE’S A ROCK GOD!

 

See, he lost all his money

To women and booze;

Once the front page

Now he’s yesterday’s news;

So he spends all his time

Just playing the blues –

BUT HE’S STILL A ROCK GOD, YEAH!

 

 

 

 

 

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