How I Became a Rock Star

I bought a guitar, an amp and stuff
and had a swastika shaved into my head
and a tattoo of a cross across my fat two cheeks
and I wrote a song about being dead
I found another dude who was just like me
who had a guitar and like, rapped about his pain
and a legless, gay, bald, midget, one-eyed drummer
with a gold tooth and top hat, know what I'm sayin'

Then a car and a basement that wasn't flooded
a bass in the basement is kickin' bad-ass
a hotel bot-tle of whiskey for the drummer
to stick in his socket, and we rock it as Shotglass
I let and I let and I let out my strap
'till my piece was draggin' the ground around on the stage
I strummed like I was mincing tree bark for salad
In a pint-of-Jack, nostril-of-narcs, shot-of-Red bull rage!

We owned the Universe and made it a mess!
Used the N-word at a White House N-vite and lifted the first lady's dress
We met Gaddafii, Kim Jong something and Ding Dong something in China
Played in black-face for the KKK in Southern South Carolina
We attended the Royal Wedding and bit the heads off the doves
Peed on the Ataturk in Ankara while drinking dolphin blood
We tweeted Al Jazeera Salman Rushdie's real nom de plume
And made sure Grant is no longer buried inside Grant's tomb
We dressed up like cripples and tickled the Pope
In our "We Rule The" world tour, we thrice circumcised the Globe...Glope

We was on TMZ, CNN, FBI, Gaga, Obama
Into cannibalism, Socialism, Scientology, Santa Claus
In and out of Betty Ford so much, they called us Gerald
We showed up for work late and drunk to raging applause
But as years dragged on with wives, kids, cars, minivans and coke
My band violated parole looking for life's deeper meaning
With better drugs, chicks, and giving expert political opinion
Fans texted "WTF?", and suddenly stopped screaming

In the good old days we'd smash our instruments
To a "Shot Glass!  Shot Glass!  Shot Glass!" chorus
But now the fans drop their lighters, rush the stage
And smash our instruments for us
I didn't make the worst dressed list in People this year
No tear shed when I caught leprosy and cried on TV
"Finger in my Snowflake!" didn't even top the grunge charts
Now the only drug I can afford is me

I used to be fashion when I picked up my mail naked
I used to be death, sex, guns, Jesus hate, obscene
I used to be rushed by babes begging for my seed
Now I stumble into WalMart shouting,"Unclean! Unclean!"
I used to flash 'hang loose' from a hot tub in my mansion
Now I live in my Bentley and give the finger from my car
Decomposing the best composition I've ever composed
How I became a rock star

April 25, 11:48 pm Copyright 2011 Michael Paul