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 d** 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 sh**, sh**, sh**, sh**, sh** 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 d** 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 f**ers 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