The Na-Na Song

Video countdown, cyber phallic optics

Profligate talk shows scrounging for a topic

Rock-a-buy gravy train, cradle's gonna rock me

Thirty-seven million's what Larry Parker got me

World War XIV, my first Sony

Beatles wrote the Nike song and called it "Macaroni"

Billy Jean Burger King, chauvinist pig pen

U.S. Army only wants a few straight men

Na-na, na-na-na-na

Na-na-na-na

Na-na

Panaflex, Soloflex, Genuflect Pope

What the world needs now is babies, guns, and hope

Guardian angel dust, in the wind cries Mary

Wanna be Madonna, but the price is too high, very

Perfect rhythm Nazis in the Pagan rhythm nation

Everybody's equal in the glow of radiation

Got a four-wheel drive and I park it in the driveway

When I get drunk, I drive it on the parkway

Gotta get a TV set for my car

Tonight's the Battle of the Network Stars

Na-na, na-na-na-na

Na-na-na-na

Na-na

Na-na, na-na-na-na

Na-na-na-na

Na-na

Saniflush Bud-Bowl makin' me sick

'Cause anybody in a helmet looks just like a dick

Steely Dan, rather be a hammer than a nail

The Serbs, the Poles, and the check's in the mail

Eat, sleep, live, die, fucking record label

G. Gordon Liddy under my table, table, table

Clarence Thomas, organ grinder, Frank DiLeo's dong

Maybe if I'd let him, I'd have had a hit song

Na-na, na-na-na-na

Na-na-na-na

Na-na

Na-na, na-na-na-na

Na-na-na-na

Na-na

Na-na, na-na-na-na

Na-na-na-na

Na-na

Na-na, na-na-na-na

Na-na-na-na

Na-na

Na-na, na-na-na-na

Na-na-na-na

Na-na