Rivet Gun - Rock Is Dead

Ghost of Keith grins and sways
Mick struts and frets his age
Glimmer twins' shimmer clings
Mister D dancing on strings
Rock is dead, rock is dead
Rock is dead
Beat poet and a troubadour
Blues harp and a Guild guitar
Sings about waiting for a lover
Another then a Dylan cover
Folk and beat poets are deader
Folk is dead
Jet black hair, mascara
Hides a pretty vacant stare
Bent strings crying mettle
Kicking on a wah-wah pedal
Metal is dead, metal is dead
Wah-wah dead
Wrecking crew and vacuum tubes
Sir George, Phil Spector, who?
Wall of sound, what's that don't care
Encoded incarnated in software
Turn it down Gen-Z frowned
Click, done, going going gone
Mister DJ say get out the way
Rock is dead
Grateful Dead, vintage head
Spring-loaded and silver coated
Stretched, wound round again
Well-worn path to tread
Dead cover bands, not dead
Not dead yet
Bad-ass bitch wearing a chip
Cigarette burning into it
Hissing, prickling, gain cranked
Pitch trapped in a reverb tank
Do I look, dead to you?
Do I look fucking dead?
Rock is dead, rock is dead
Rock is dead
Rock is dead, rock is dead
Rock is dead

Written by:
David Kelly

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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