I dream of Molly Hatchet
Chopping up the Backstreet Boys
Oh, yeah, it's been a free ride
Making up the great whit enoise
And I blow up satellite
They're controlling all I like
And we burn up in the atmosphere
Making everything all right
I listen to the static tearing up your radio
I'm feeling catatonic drive-thru electronic
Can't believe I thought you were a superhero
Just a lot of talking tough with your ones and zeros