To beat the band (Ode to Lewis Carroll)

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