Get Off the Air Lyrics

Hey!
Hey!

He can't read, baby, he can't talk
He's L.A.'s favorite punk rock jock
Glitter bands and Bowie's cock
Are his ideas of new wave rock

You're a fuckin' piece of shit now, Rodney
I don't think you're so hot
You make me laugh with those clothes you wear
And those stupid teeth you've got

Get off the air, get off the air
You pathetic male groupie, you don't impress me
Get off the air, you fuckin' square
You're just a jerk as far as I can see

Eight p.m., Rodney's on the air
He's beating off in Joan Jett's hair
Christmas Eve, whadda you got?
Four hours of Phil Spector rock

You're a fuckin' piece of shit now, Rodney
I don't think you're so hot
You make me laugh with those clothes you wear
And those lame-brain teeth you've got

Get off the air, get off the air
You pathetic male queer, you don't impress me
Get off the air, you fuckin' square
You're just a jerk as far as I can see

Hey!