radiohead is long, long dead
so long, long live on, radiohead
and tell kid A the walrus was thom
then watch kid Z go dance with mom
to beatle stones and smoking bones
and kingdoms come and seven thrones
for seven kings of the frontier (wild)
and adam ant and the holy child
who the wise men knew would be a star
when they gave him myrrh and a guitar
and frankinsence and freakin’ peas
so get thee down upon thy knees
and worship thom and all the rest
the holy ones, the amply blessed,
with volt and ohm and amp and watt
the son is roasted on the spot
where boon’s corona blows up space
and leaves us dead without a trace
of thicker liquor, beer, i fear
goes down like piss again this year,
the anno in the domini,
means that there is no more b.c.,
so after christ, not anti yet,
no gog, magog, nor chia pet
no you nor me nor old pooneil,
just thommy yorke, the real, real deal,
the bomb, the shit, the anvil too,
the bomb-a-lomp, the big bam boo,
the hottsy tot, the dwarf in shorts,
the kids who aren’t that good at sports,
the redneck, burnout, junkie guard,
the bassist with the single nard,
forget them, now, like they were dead
and sing a song of radiohead