Lyrics:

The fact that we live in a world where John Lennon was murdered, yet Barry Manilow continues to put out fuckin' albums... goddammit.
If you're gonna kill somebody, have some fuckin' taste.
I'll drive you to Kenny Rogers' house, alright? Get in the car, I know where Wham lives!

[singing] 'You gotta have faith, da dun da da...'
[mimics gunshots, car driving off]
No, George, you gotta have talent, dude.
[mimics gunshots]
New rule!
And you can shave that two-day growth of beard off, buddy. 'Cause you're foolin' no one, you big girl.
[mimics gunshot]

For the record, and let's not mince words because our very lives depend ONLY on truth... George Michaels IS... A... BIG... GIRL.
IF you ladies like him, you're dykes.
End of fucking story. This is not a matter of opinion. This is not a matter of taste or perception. I can prove this on a home computer. These aren't idle thoughts.
Guy's such a big girl. And you see this? He's hawkin' Diet Cokes now. Oooooh! Diet Cokes!
Even Madonna fuckin' hawked REAL Coke. You little puss.
'Diet Coke! I'm George Michaels! I drink Diet Cokes so my hiney doesn't get too big! We don't like big hineys, do we, girls? Hee hee hee! Diet Coke!'
Why don't you just put the fuckin' skirt on and get it over with? That's what I say.

These are our, like, our music representatives. These are our rock stars! What kind of fuckin' Reagan wet dream is this world, man? Rock stars hawkin' Diet Cokes!
What real rock star would do somethin' like that, you know?
It's Keith Moon for Snickers!
'Sometimes I'm doing a drum solo and I haven't eaten for, like, 3 fuckin' weeks. I eat a Snickeeeeeeeers!'
That's a rock star. It's John Bonham for Certs!
'Threw up blood in me sleep last night. I got a date with two 13-year-old twins! Ahh, Certs [unintelligible]....'
THAT's a rock star.
DIET COOOOKE!

Boy, I tell you, if money had a dick, George Michaels would be a flamin' faggot.
[slightly muffled, as if talking while sucking dick] 'Oh, Diet Coke? Ohhhh. Oh, yeah. Oh boy, yeah. MMMMMMMM MMM, I love that Diet Coke, UHHH UH, mm hmm, oh yeah. Uh huh. Oh, GOD DAMMIT. God DAMN that Diet Coke! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Drink it every day! UH-- UNNNHHHHHHHHHH!'

He's a demon set loose on the Earth to lower the standards.
End of fucking story.

Everyone, though. Everyone is hawkin' products! That's, like, the highest thing you can achieve now, isn't it? Become some barker?
Sinatra hawks beer? He doesn't have enough money, does he? No.
Nothing's sacred to these fucks, man! I'm waitin' to see, 'It's Jesus for Miller!'
'I was crucified, dead for three days, resurrected, and waited 2000 years to return to the Earth. It's Miller time!'
'You know, Jesus, it doesn't get better than this!'

You don't see the imminent danger, do you? You're staring at me like, 'Bill, they're just musicians and they-- you know, and they're just doin' their thing, and, uh...'
NO!
They are DEMONS SET LOOSE ON THE EARTH TO LOWER THE STANDARDS FOR THE PERFECT AND HOLY CHILDREN OF GOD, WHICH IS WHAT WE ARE! Make no mistake about it.
What's happened to us?! After eight years of Ronald Reagan and yuppies, we live on, like, the third mall from the sun now. You know?
C'mon, man! I've s-- is it fuckin' me?
Debbie Gibson had the number one album in this country, y'all. Now, if this doesn't make your blood fucking curdle...
I mean, who buys that shit, you know? Is there that much babysitting money being passed around now?
Have you seen that little mall creature at work?
[singing] 'Shake your love...'
What love are you shakin', Debbie? You're 12!
You got no titties, you look like John-Boy, and your music SUCKS!
Go back to the mall that spawned you.
This is not a matter of perception, this is not a matter of taste, I can prove this on an Etch-a-Sketch.
Go babysit Tiffany, that's what you should be doing.
Spank her little bottom 'til it's bright red, then lick it all over. There's a video I'll fuckin' watch of yours.
Who wouldn't love to see those two little hairless peach fishes locked in a 69? 'Ohh, Debbie, ohh Tiffy. Oh, baby, what've we been waitin' for, honey? Oh, no. Holy lord.'
For God's sake, keep their mouths busy so they can't sing.
Anything!

Number one album. Sorry, I find that hard to believe. But, then again, Reagan was elected twice! Pahahahahaha!
I should be used to disappointment, I guess!
Get over it, Bill!

Man, Rick Astley? Have you seen that little incubus at work?
[singing] 'Don't ever wanna make you cry, never wanna break your heart...'
Haha, I wouldn't worry about it without a dick, Rick!
You got a Corn Nut! You got a clit! You're not even a guy. You're an AIDS germ that got off a slide.
They're puttin' music to AIDS germs, puttin' a drum machine behind 'em and Ted Turner's colorizing 'em, god dammit. These aren't even really people! It's a CIA plot to make you think malls are good.
It's all in [?] next month.

You're still starin' at me. You just don't feel the fire because you've just been anesthetized, right?
'Come on, Bill! Debbie Gibson, she's just a little girl!'
NO!
'You know Debbie Gibson writes all her own songs?'
No! Fuckin' pull me up a chair.
'Yep! She writes all her own songs about her own real-life experiences.'
Hey, what's her next one called? 'Mom, Why Am I Bleeding?'
When did we start listening to prepubescent white girls? I must have missed that meeting.
We have at our fingertips the greatest minds of all time. The knowledge and history of the greatest thinkers of all fuckin' time! But no, what's that little white girl sayin'?
Let's go put Debbie Gibson's thoughts on a fuckin' compact disc, so they'll never be destroyed.

Is it me? I mean, god dammit, I remember, I think, and maybe I'm romanticizing the past, but I remember when music had a conscience and music had SOUL and music had balls, man! Does anybody remember that at all?
Jimi Hendrix?
Any question about that guy?
[singing] 'STAND BY THE MOUNTAIN, CHOP IT DOWN WITH THE EDGE OF MY HAND'
[imitates wild, distorted guitar]
This guy had a dick... like an anaconda... blowin' in the wind, man.
[singing] 'Don't ever wanna make you cry, never wanna break your heart, Diet Coke forever...'
'SCUSE ME!
I would love to have seen the Jimi Hendrix/Debbie Gibson album. I bet he could shake her love right in half.
[imitates heavy, distorted guitar]
'FOXY LADY!'
'MOMMY!!!'
[imitates distorted guitar]
'FOXY LADY.'
'MOMMYYYYYYYYY!!!'
'Debbie, you wanted to be a rock star, honey, remember? You gotta hang with the big boys, sweetie.'
'I WANNA GO BACK TO THE MALL!
I SUCK! I SUCK!
GET HIM AWAY, HE'S GOT THE BIGGEST DICK!'
[imitates crashing sound]
'VOODOO CHILD, BAY-BEH'
Just a dick like a bus, [imitates chainsaw revving up]
Cut her into little mall cordwood, man.
Save a pair of bloody panties for George Michael to slip on, BOOM! He's a woman, she's dead, Jimi's still fuckin' jamming, god dammit.