Rolling Stone

Filled the ashtray up With blunts all weekend I filled my bathtub up With ice and tequila Filled the whole crib up With cigarettes and bitches Had a threesome with some strippers Woke up with some stitches I know boys on his Rockstar shit Oh I know headed for some Cobain shit Rolling Stone with brains like that man he could have been an astronaut And been just as high Rolling Stone With a home like that man he could have been anything But you chose this life A couple weeks out on the road and you begin to feel different You're in Paris then in London than in Berlin with sumbitches then you make it back to LA and you do not know the difference and you fly back into Canada and drink because depression got you fucked up in the head lying in your bed sleeping while some pretty girl trying to give you head I know the boys on his Rockstar shit I lit the whole damn club up on a Sunday afternoon and on Monday morning got a hotel room and on Monday evening man I waited till the crew came and then the very next night had the club going up on a Tuesday Rolling Stone with brains like that man you could have been an astronaut and been just as high Rolling Stone with a home like that man you could have been anything but you chose this life Rolling Stone with a face like that boy you could have been president but you just as bad Rolling Stone with a heart like that man you could have been anything and been just as sad Rolling Stone