Sunday Morning Paper

Intro Sunday morning paper said "Rock 'n' Roll is surely dead!" Somethin' hit me deep down in my soul Lord I know, it's just Rock 'n' Roll verse 1 Never one time did I ever Dream you wouldn't live forever Betcha never planned on gettin' old Looked like you were born to lose Your slicked back hair and your prison blues Mother tried to keep you from that row Lord I know, it's just Rock 'n' Roll Instrumental verse 2 Well you showed up from the underground Bakersfield, Tulsa-town An inch away from needin' crowd control Lord I know, Oh Lord I know! verse 3 Women, wine and Benzedrine Out to break the Big Machine Gettin' off the low-down for the truth Fightin' at it fingernail and tooth verse 4 Somewhere between 10 and 2 Someone's wishin' they were you Make a livin' off your highs and lows Lord I know, it's just Rock 'n' Roll Instrumental Verse 5 Never one time did I ever Dream you wouldn't live forever Betcha never planned on gettin' old Bangin' on a baby grand Play that thing to beat the band Screamin' out for everything you're worth Well you dressed up like the greatest show on Earth Outro Sunday morning paper said "Rock 'n' Roll is surely dead!" I don't think I'll ever let it go Even though it's just Rock 'n' Roll x4