Fun Fun Fun in the fluffy chair Flame up the herb Woof down the beer [click!] Hi I'm your video DJ I always talk like I'm wigged out on quaaludes I wear a satin baseball jacket everywhere I go
My job is to help destroy What's left of your imagination By feeding you endless doses Of sugar-coated mindless garbage
So don't create Be sedate Be a vegetable at home And thwack on that dial If we have our way even you will believe This is the future of rock and roll
How far will you go How low will you stoop To tranquilize our minds with your sugar-coated swill
You've turned rock and roll rebellion Into Pat Boone sedation Making sure nothing's left to the imagination
M.T.V. Get off the M.T.V. Get off the M.T.V. Get off the air Get off the air
See the latest rejects from the muppet show Wag their tits and their dicks As they lip-synch on screen There's something I don't like About a band who always smiles Another tax write-off For some schmuck who doesn't care
M.T.V. Get off the air And so it was Our beloved corporate gods Claimed they created rock video Allowing it to sink as low in one year As commercial TV has in 25 "It's the new frontier," they say It's wide open, anything can happen But you've got a lot of nerve To call yourself a pioneer When you're too god-damn conservative To take real chances.
Tin-eared Graph-paper brained accountants Instead of music fans Call all the shots at giant record companies now
The lowest common denominator rules Forget honesty Forget creativity The dumbest buy the mostest That's the name of the game
But sales are slumping And no one will say why Could it be they put out one too many lousy records?!?