The old rocker wore his hair too long Wore his trouser cuffs too tight Unfashionable to the end Drank his ale too light Death's head belts buckle Yesterday's dreams The transport caf' prophet of doom Ringing no change in his double-sewn seams In his post-war-babe gloom Now he's too old to rock 'n' roll But he's too young to die Yes, he's too old to rock 'n' roll But he's too young to die He once owned a Harley Davidson And a Triumph Bonneville Counted his friends in burned-out spark plugs And prays that he always will But he's the last of the blue blood greasers boys And all of his mates are doing time Married with three kids up by the ring road Sold their souls straight down the line And some of them own little sports cars And meet at the tennis club do's For drinks on a Sunday, work on Monday They've thrown away their blue suede shoes Now they're too old to rock 'n' roll And they're too young to die Yes, they're too old to rock 'n' roll And they're too young to die So the old rocker gets out his bike To make a ton before he takes his leave Up on the A1 by Scotch Corner Just like it used to be And as he flies, tears in his eyes His wind-whipped words echo the final take And he hits the trunk road doing around a 120 With no room left to brake And he was too old to rock 'n' roll But he was too young to die He was too old to rock 'n' roll And he was too young to die No, you're never too old to rock 'n' roll If you're too young to die No, you're never too old to rock 'n' roll But he was too young to die

I recall my so called misspent youth It seems more worthwhile every single day Cruisin' Van Nuys and actin' so uncooth All the joys of runnin' away There was no speed limit on the Nevada state line The air was red wine on those top-down nights Just you and me, my old rollarskate And the common sense to know our rights Sweet, old racin' car of mine Roarin' down that broken line I never been so much alive Too fast for comfort Too low to fly Too young to die You say a man can't love a material thing With aluminum skin and a cast iron soul But they never heard your engine sing Ah, there's peace in losing control "Sticky Fingers" turned up real loud Ah, we were flirtin' with catastrophe We were doin' everything that's not allowed Life didn't come with a warranty, for you and me Sweet, old racin' car of mine Roarin' down that broken line I never been so much alive Too fast for comfort Too low to fly Too young to die There is peace in losing control When I die I don't wanna go to heaven I just wanna drive my beautiful machine Up North, on some Sonoma Country road With Jimmy Dean and Steve McQueen All the boys be singin', singin' Sweet, old racin' car of mine Roarin' down that broken line I never felt so much alive Too fast for comfort Too low to fly Too young to die Just a little bit too young Too young To die

I didn't expect them to know my name Surrounding me like a black steel frame Saw the world go up in flames And I just smiled and stood there, watching And it doesn't seem like this is real That's just the way I feel I don't know why Well, I learned from my mistakes This time, I will escape I'm too young to die We're all too young to die! It doesn't seem like this is real I guess it's just the way I feel I don't know why Well, I've learned from my mistakes This time, I will escape I'm too young to die

Round and round, round we go Where it stops? Nobody knows it Side to side baby, back and forth God above and the devil below him You got your reasons and I got my wants Still got that feeling, but I'm too old to die young now Too old to die young now Above or below the ground Yes, too old to die young now Still the good lord might lay me down Round and round, round we go Where it stops? Nobody knows it Side to side baby, down in the hole God above and the devil below him You got your reasons and I got my wants Still got that feeling, but I'm too old to die young now Too old to die young now Above or below the ground Yes, too old to die young now Still the good lord might lay me down To lay me down To die young now Too old to die young now Above or below the ground Still the good lord might lay me down

I awoke in a room that was Occupied by those about to die For my sleep was disturbed By the sound of old mens cries for help What's this place what the hell am I doing here What's happened to me And I'm wondering what kind of state My mind and body's in Be calm please lay back We will help you rest for a while And I yelled "No you don't I'm not going to sleep" I'm just gonna get my body out of here I pushed the bottle down away from my face But felt the needle stab like a spear As my legs started shaking The room revolved around my clouded head And the floors rushing up just to greet me Laying there on my back As the ceiling flies away and from me Was I finally losing my hold on reality Be calm take this pill We will help you rest for a while And I yelled "No you don't I'm not going to sleep" I'm just gonna get my body out of here I pushed the bottle down away from my face But felt the needle stab like a spear Be calm please lay back We will help you rest for a while And I yelled "No you don't I'm not going to sleep" I'm just gonna get my body out of here I pushed the bottle down away from my face But felt the needle stab like a spear

It was newborn and ten feet tall, But they called it little boy, And C7, H5, O6, N3 they called him T-N-T. The fireball would dim the sun, Promising death in its cruelest form. Hiroshima Mon Amour As we beg to be forgiven do you spit, In our face and curse us all. The fireball that shamed the sun, Burning the shadows on the ground, As the rain falls to dry the land, Leaving desert for the thirsty man. They all said it would end the war, And we thanked Christ for the bomb, And the priests and witches all agreed, They should die to keep them free. The fireball that shamed the sun, Burning the shadows on the ground, As the rain falls to dry the land, Leaving the desert for the thirsty man. HIROSHIMA!

Lonely giant You walk alone You the ice man Come from the cold Himalayan Mountains are your home Long lost brother Look at my face Through the ions You hide and I wait Himalayan Mountains are your home Himalayan Mountains are your home Cold mountain Trapped in the snow Warm your blood runs Come in from the cold Himalayan Mountains are your home Himalayan Mountains are your home Himalayan Mountains are your home Himalayan Mountains are your home

They named it the rock Land of the living dead A repose for the rich and famous All the infamous would tell each other's lies Why did they want to tell the truth On an island in the sun Cool Pacific winds blow Most were poets And they wrote in basic prose On the walls of their Sunset Boulevard In their nine by five rooms became inspired By the silence in sight of the city On an island in the sun Cool Pacific winds blow Just across the bay Battered by the waves On an island in the sun Cool Pacific winds blow Just across the bay Battered by the waves