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From Madam Wong's to Starwood |
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To the Whiskey on the strip |
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You can hear the crashing, blasting strum |
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Of bands that come to be real hip |
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And get a record contract |
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From a talent scout someday |
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They'll sell their ass, their cocks and balls |
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They'll take the check 'n' walk away |
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If they're lucky they'll get famous |
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For a week or two perhaps |
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They'll buy some ugly clothes to wear |
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And hope the business don't collapse |
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Before some stupid magazine |
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Decides they're really good |
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They're a Tinsel Town Rebellion Band |
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From downtown Hollywood |
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Tinsel Town Rebellion, |
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Tinsel Town Rebellion Band |
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It's a little bitty Tinsel Town Rebellion |
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A Tinsel Town Rebellion Band |
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They used to play all kinds of stuff |
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And some of it was nice |
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Some of it was musical |
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But then they took some guy's advice |
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To get a record deal, he said |
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They would have to be more punk |
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Forget their chops and play real dumb |
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Or else they would be sunk |
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So off they go to S.I.R. to learn some stupid riffs |
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And practice all their poses |
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In between their powder sniffs |
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Chop up a line now, snort it up now |
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And when they think they've got it |
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They launch a new career |
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Who gives a fuck if what they play |
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Is somewhat insincere |
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Tinsel Town Rebellion, |
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Tinsel Town Rebellion Band |
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A Tinsel Town Rebellion |
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A Tinsel Town Rebellion Band |
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Did you know that in Tinsel Town the people there |
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Think substance is a bore |
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And if your New Wave group looks good |
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They'll hurry on back for more |
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Of leather groups and plastic groups |
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And groups that look real queer |
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The Tinsel Town aficionados |
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Come to see and not to hear |
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But then again this system works |
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As perfect as a dream |
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It works for all those record company pricks |
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Who come to skim the cream |
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From the cesspools of excitement |
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Where Jim Morrison once stood |
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It's the Tinsel Town Rebellion |
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From downtown Hollywood |
