Born a punk-rocker but the beer came next
Less and less about rockin’ out, more about who he managed to impress
Grappling the breasts of women caught unawares
Unimpressed to say the very least
Dressed like something of a God, always and forever showcasing his “rod”
With a cigarette in his mouth, he loved to hear those from his tiny fanbase shout, make a motion when it came to his particular kind of potion
Always on offer, ’til the drink really took over and ‘things’ got a whole lot softer
On he would go with the most insanely inarticulate flow
No ordinary joe, a hard-on for entertainment
Not all that obvious to everyone but he always believed it to be heaven-sent