It was the genesis of the four seasons
It was a green day on a black sabbath with the moody blues
The animals were in dire straits with a def leppard
A beatle under rolling stones said:
“Who is Queen?”
“No”, said the Prince, “but the King is Elvis”
“Is it the monkeys, with nine inch nails?”
Asked a modest mouse, with ink spots,
In her rush through the hollies
The air supply in the grass roots was limited,
For a foreigner, with a weak heart, on a journey
As she looked for bread, she saw men at work
The traffic was heavy on the pavement
It was a death cab for cutie
The eagles circled, but she gave no creedence
An iron butterfly was racing the led zeppelin
Timed by a strawberry alarm clock
And in one direction was the public enemy
The beastie boys, turning boys to men
“They are fine young cannibals and cook with canned heat
As well as red hot chilli peppers
The turtles, crickets and U2 have temptations” said the byrds
“Yes, the yardbirds are on platters, along with the flamingos”
“Don\'t forget the coasters, I want a lovin spoonful”
Wailed country Joe and the fish
Only in Boston, Chicago or Manchester City
Can drifters find cream and the jam they love
Beach boys were holding company with the ghost of the grateful dead
As the police were smashing pumpkins,
In the deep purple shadows of the velvet underground
In the moonglow, the outkast reached nirvana
The doors, to the association of the culture club, shut on his bad finger
The band with a big star played for the mamas and papas
With an earthquake, earth, wind and fire, ended it in a clash