Well my old man says the Woodstock generation
Found a way to make this nation
Open up it's eyes and take a look around
And he says my generation, ain't good for nothing
I can think of somthing, so I thought I'd write it down
So here's to hair gel, hanging out at the health spa
Using condom sense and watching LA Law
Here's to drum machines, stoned-washed jeans
Credit cards and fax machines
Big bald-headed chicks and frat guys
Wearing forty dollar tye died T-shirts and big bold paisley ties
Here's to living off dad as long as you can
Blending in with the crowd
Oh my generation, my generation, my generation should be proud
We were raised up in the hallowed halls