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