son, don't give me any grief
I've been around the block
And I got my act together,
But it's served me well for a long,
And here's my secret jack
You need a real long finish that never quits
English tricolore harmony grips
A buttery flavor that goes on and on
With a hint of leash and a nose too long
But you got to do it your own way
Yeah, ba, ba, ba, ba, ba,
It's all bad, I think it's
I've seen this mighty continent
From the backseat of a van
Where the scenery just disappears
Like the members of your band
On rocket fuel and gasoline
And everything in between
A buttery flavor that goes on and on
With a hint of bruises and a nose to it all
But you got to do it your own way
Or cigarettes and bad chardonnay
Yeah, cigarettes and cigarettes
Ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- ba
Ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- ba
B- b- b- b- b- b- b- b- b- b- bash on me
B- b- b- b- b- b- b- b- b- bash on me
I've hit the bottom many times
And it's not always that bad
In fact, it's kind of comforting
Like the friends you never had
When the walls collapse around you
And the kaleidoscope explodes
You feel so small and meaningless
English jiggle on harmony grips
A flutter of flavor that goes all around
When her hair's all greased
But you got to do it your own way
On cigarettes and bad chardonnay
Yeah, cigarettes and cigarettes
Yeah, cigarettes and cigarettes
Ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- ba
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba
Yeah, that's all you need to know,
that's it, right there, that's my philosophy