Old Enough To Be Drafted But Not

Every Single Night, There Seemed To Be The Same Seven Or Eight Guys - Harry Nilsson, Myself, Mickey Dolenz, Bernie Taupin, Keith Moon When He Was In Town. It Was Actually Sort Of A Social Club - Drinking Club - For Rock Stars That Drank - Seriously Drank.

Stick A Needle In Your Arm, You Bite The Dust, You Buy The Farm.

Chained In A Cell, Got My Own Private Hell. Preacher Crucifies Me, Warden Wants To Fry Me.

Militant Mothers Hiding In The Basement Using Pots And Pans As Their Shields And Their Helmets.

No More Pencils, No More Books, No More Teachers' Dirty Looks, When The Teacher Rings The Bell, Drop Your Books And Run Like Hell