Get Off the Air

Lyrics

Hey! Hey! He can't read, baby, he can't talk He's L.A.'s favorite punk rock jock Glitter bands and Bowie's cock Are his ideas of new wave rock You're a fuckin' piece of shit now, Rodney I don't think you're so hot You make me laugh with those clothes you wear And those stupid teeth you've got Get off the air, get off the air You pathetic male groupie, you don't impress me Get off the air, you fuckin' square You're just a jerk as far as I can see Eight p.m., Rodney's on the air He's beating off in Joan Jett's hair Christmas Eve, whadda you got? Four hours of Phil Spector rock You're a fuckin' piece of shit now, Rodney I don't think you're so hot You make me laugh with those clothes you wear And those lame-brain teeth you've got Get off the air, get off the air You pathetic male queer, you don't impress me Get off the air, you fuckin' square You're just a jerk as far as I can see Hey!