He's the old hippie that made us sick, He wrote muzak for drug addicts He's the fat geezer who talked too much, He used drugs as a crutch He ate granola and he hugged trees, Looked like a dog bit by fleas Had a beer belly and a tye-dyed shirt, Said he'd live forever but now he sleeps in dirt [Chorus] {Jerry was a piece of shit, shit, shit, shit, shit I'm Grateful that he's dead, dead, dead, dead, dead} Like Jim Bakker he went far, Turned stadiums into singles bars Did all of the drugs in San Francisco, Wrote 20 albums of long-haired disco Then he sang I will survive, look who is no longer alive So all you fuckers in your VW vans, Preppy dink hackysack clan Wallstreet twats with ponytail hair, Your BMW's with dancing bears He was an icon, he was a god, He racked in your cash in wads You were conned by a useless slob, The tours are over so get a job