Lyrics

Hey dad rock - at least we're family I wouldn't risk my arse on account of finger food If you are such a flavour expert, where are your graters? Any pans in the big vans heading south? Hey dad rock - what does that mean? I didn't take notes til I lost my spleen How you living life so far? I manage this band They're really very bad If anybody (anybody) knows who we might hit up for shows Upstairs Second right, where the hammer-ons go to die They are pinched, they are punched They are meant as prayers Hey dad rock - don't sweat those waistcoats They go well with the cloak and the double-necked keytar bass If you search your heart dressed as a lower-power wizard No-one will ever escape your chumley gaze Hey dad rock - I'm a losing stitch I couldn't just squeak at a tray of tits Are you being sent insane? I bother this guy, he isn't very nice Does anybody (anybody) know how I might depress him? Prolong Pro-lay He's the warden of the woo For the more in the main And his fans don't hate the Jews And his fans, and his fans, and his fans don't hate the Jews And his fans, and his fans, and his fans don't hate the Jews Hey dad rock - at least we're family I wouldn't risk my arse on account of finger food If you are such a flavour expert, where are your graters? Any pans in the big vans heading south? Hey dad rock - what does that mean I didn't take notes til I lost my spleen How you living life so far? I manage this band, they're really very bad If anybody (anybody) knows who we might hit up for