Punky's Whips

In today's rapidly changing world Rock groups appear every 14 or 15 minutes utilizing some new promotional device Some of these devices have been known to leave irreparable scars on the minds of foolish young consumers One such case is seated before you Little skinny Terry "Ted" Bozzio, our cute little drummer (that's me) Terry recently fell in love with a publicity photo of a boy named Punky Meadows (oh, Punky) Lead guitar player from a group called Angel In the photograph, Punky was seen with a beautiful shiny hairdo In a semi-profile which emphasized the pooched out succulence of his insolent pouting rictus The sight of which drove the helpless young drummer Mad with desire I can't stand the way he pouts 'Cause he might not be pouting for me (pouting for you, you freakin' sailor?) Oh Punky, please be pouting for me His hair's so shiny and it's done real nice 'Til I squirm with ecstasy Punky, Punky, give me your lips To die on Oh Punky, isn't it romantic? Punky, Punky, give me your lips To die on I promise not to come in your mouth Punky, Punky, your album's the shits It's all wrong I ain't really queer But if he ever got near Steven Tyler would pay to see, pay to see Punky's lips, Punky's lips His hair's so shiny, I love his hips I love his teeth an' his gums an' such Punky, you're an angel You're too much The voice of my thoughts In my lonely teen-age room (He's been havin' a rash) No shit (That keeps the girls away) (Skin doom) Skin doom (Is what the doctors say) And that makes me wonder I wonder if Punky is rehearsin' today I'll just go over and hear him play His hair is so pretty I'd like to bite his neck I've heard a rumor he's more fluid than Jeff Beck But I ain't queer I ain't gay He's a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array A wrist array That's all it is, I swear Punky's lips, Punky's lips Oh, I love his hair while eatin' dunk-y chips Yeah, I love his blink and his blank-blank-blank Why, maybe he'd like to yank my crank? Yank it Punky Yank it faster Yank it harder Yank it all night long Come on, Punky Get funky I ain't queer (no, no, no, no) I ain't gay (no, no, no, no) He's a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array Wrist array And then he told me now I ain't queer (hey) I ain't gay (hey) He's a little fond of chiffon in a wrist array I, Lord, I'm fond of chiffon In a wrist array Oh-oh-oh-oh I swear I'm fond of chiffon In a wrist array Come on, Punky Funky Punky Funky Punky Funky, funky Punky