Cover Of The Rolling Stone

Oh, we're big rock singers.

We got golden fingers.

And we're loved everywhere we go.

We sing about beauty,

And we sing about truth

At ten thousand dollars a show.

We take all kinds of pills

To give us all kind of thrills,

But the thrill we've never known

Is the thrill that'll getcha

When you get your picture

On the cover of the Rolling Stone.

Rolling Stone...

Wanna see my picture on the cover.

Stone...

Wanna buy five copies for my Mother.

Stone...

Wanna see my smiling face

On the cover of the Rolling Stone.

I got a freaky old lady

Named Cocaine Katy

Who embroiders all my jeans.

Got my poor old grey-haired daddy

Drivin' my limousine.

It's all designed to blow our minds,

But our minds won't really get blown

Like the blow that'll getcha

When you get your picture

On the cover of the Rolling Stone.

We gotta lotta little teenage blue-eyed groupies

Who do anything we say.

We got a genuine Indian guru

Who'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 getting richer,

But we can't get our picture

On the cover of the Rolling Stone.