I wanna tell you about the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse.
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C'mon and watch him spread his legs and birth another diva.
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Prommageddon pit, smash hit. Prommageddon, chart topper.
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Your song is gold like the color of piss [x2]
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The Fifth Horseman stuffs the radio (oh oh oh..oh oh)
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with singles until it's sick to it's stomach. (oh oh oh..oh oh)
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He scouts the dumpsters for a cobweb guitar
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to polish into a superstar,
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finds the gurgle of a skeleton without love,
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turns it into a commercial.
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Prommageddon pit, smash hit. Prommageddon, chart topper.
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Your song is gold like the color of piss [x2]
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He shaves his sideburns into dollar signs,
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he mingles with the band,
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his mustache made of vines.
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A hot tub stuffed with gorgeous ass? (We want it!)
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Bronzed lips? Mouth full of cash? (We need it!)
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A sizzling tan? Life of the party? (We want it!)
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A full-length mirror for every inch of your body? (We need it!)
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And when he steals your teen heat
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it sounds a lot like...
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So store your songs here in the Prommageddon pit
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because the kids are spoiled rich
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and they don't know shit from shit.
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Teen Heat
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| The Blood Brothers |
