All In the Name of Rock 'N' Roll

Went downtown on the 249

Playin' for recognition of the New York town

See, me and my boys got a rock 'n' roll band

They were so damn good, gonna lift up the man

Yeah

Well, we got ups, we got downs

We got just so high till the sun goes down

Got the ego, that can be abused

I got my two-toned shoes

And I can sing the blues

Look out, kids, it's the FBI

We got a problem, you keep me high

Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face

And put your money where your mouth is, or get out this place

New York town is a mean ass town

We got a thousand bands singing underground

Way down in New Orleans, it's the same old thing

Emotional, music a merry old thing

Well, Old King Soul, he finally gave us a jolt

He played the vibes till 9 and read from 10 to 4

He played upside down, he played inside out

Then a uniform band, he was thrown into jail

Look out, kids, it's the FBI

We got a problem, you keep me high

Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face

Put your money where your mouth is, or get out this place

Gettin' hungry, I know, little woman

Can't get a smell, 'cause my nose is blocked

I'm so high, I can't believe it

Hotel dogs are knockin' on my door

Two nights of singin' nearly out on the end

Left the two parts red, oh, what a square

As soon as the man, there's no sweeter song

Listen, McCartney, we're the band on the run

Look out, kids, it's the FBI

We got a problem, you keep me high

Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face

And put your money where your mouth is, or get out this place

Oh, yeah