I got stoned this morning but I haven’t had a drink all day In a ? I was running behind I had a load on my trailer and a lot on my mind And I was rocking, rolling cross the USA Pulled into Arizona about a hundred ? When a smokey bear shot me with his

That's what I want Big fat money Some say money is bad for the soul Bad for the rock, bad for the roll Bad for the heart, bad for the brain Bad for damn near everything, oh It must be good for something Come on pay the rent Telephone, telefax,

I kept saying no, no no no no no Well I kept saying no, no no no no no She said go but I said no I say no no no She was a foxy rocker, a roxy roller An unchained sex machine Slippin' slidin', electric glidin' And boy she was mean

Don't rock rock the jukebox I want to hear some Jones 'Cause my heart ain't ready For the Rolling Stones I don't feel like rockin' Since my baby's gone So don't rock rock the jukebox Play me a country song Before you drop that quarter

Let there be rock rock In the beginning Back in nineteen fifty five Man didn't know about a rock 'n' roll show And all that jive The white man had the smoltz The black man had the blues No one knew what they was gonna do But Tchaikovsky had the news

Roll over Beethoven, Roll over Beethoven and tell Tchaikovsky the news Roll over Beethoven rockin' in two by two I'm gonna write a little letter, Gonna mail it to my local DJ It's a rockin' rhythm record I want my jockey to play Roll over Beethoven, I

Rock Rock me baby, rock rock me all night long Rock Rock me baby, honey, rock rock me all night long I want you to rock rock me baby like my back ain't got no bone Roll me baby, like you roll a wagon wheel I want you to roll me baby like you roll a wagon wheel Want you to roll

Tonight I'm a rock 'n' roll star It's just rock 'n' roll The day's moving just too fast for me I live my life in the city There's no easy way out I need some time in the sunshine I've gotta slow it right down I live my life for the stars that shine

A street fighting man For a street fighting man 'Cept for sing for a rock 'n' roll band 'Cause in this sleepy L.A. town There's just no place for a street fighting man Everywhere I hear the sound of marching, charging feet, boy 'Cause summers here and

Hey, hey, you got me rocking now Hey, hey, there ain't no stopping me I was a butcher cutting up meat My hands were bloody, I'm dying on my feet I was a surgeon 'till I start to shake I was a-falling 'till you put on the brakes I was a pitcher down in a