Coughing, Blues?: "Gol, Bret--don't touch me there!" Bret: I'm gonna tell you who we are.
Well we're big rock singers we got golden fingers And we're loved everywhere we go (That sounds like us)
We sing about beauty and we sing about truth At ten million dollars a show (Yeah, right!)
We take all kinda pills That give us all kinda thrills But the thrill we've never known Is the thrill that it gets ya when you get your picture On the cover of the Rolling Stone
[Chorus] Rolling Stone I'm gonna see my picture on the cover Stone Gonna buy five copies for my mother Stone Gonna see my smiling face On the cover of the Rolling Stone
I got a freaky old lady named Cocaine Katie Who embroiders on my jeans I got my poor old gray-haired Daddy Driving my limousine.
Now it's all designed to blow our minds, But our minds won't really be blown Like the blow that'll getcha When you get your picture On the cover of the Rolling Stone
[Chorus] Spoken: Hey, I know how!!! Solo Spoken: Beautiful!
We gotta lot of little teen-aged blue-eyed groupies Who do anything we say We got a genuine Indian Guru He's teaching us a better way
We got all the friends that money can buy, So we never have to be alone And we keep gettin' richer, But we can't get our picture On the cover of the Rolling Stone [ Chorus]
I don't know why we ain't on the cover, baby! Ah we're beautiful fellas! I ain't kiddin' you man, we'd make a beautiful cover I mean, I can see it right now--we be up front, Oh, we be smilin'... Beautiful!