Roll over Chuck Berry

Watching night traffic pumping gas
Graveyard ship behind bulletproof glass
Turn the radio on, flip that dial down
Every station in the nation playing such a stupid sound
I took the persuasion I save for the muggers
Thirty six summers of Louisville Slugger
I smack that jive out of the radio
All the way downtown

Who made those transistors jive?
Make all Block Olas come alive
And where's that brown-eyes handsome man
And why she shut up, I just don't understand
The one ghost I can't forget
Come on mister Berry, you ain't dead yet
So please, Chuck, get me out of here!
This radio wasteland

Roll over Chuck Berry
Roll over Chuck Berry
Roll over Chuck Berry
Get me out of this radio wasteland

Slap that smile back on your face
Get that guitar out of that cage
Two or three strokes of your poison pen
Two or three clouds and you'll be rocking again

Slap that smile back on your face
Get that guitar out of that cage
Two or three strokes of your poison pen
Two or three clouds and you'll be rocking again

Roll over Chuck Berry
Roll over Chuck Berry
Roll over Chuck Berry
Get me out of this radio wasteland

Roll over Chuck Berry
Roll over Chuck Berry
Roll over Chuck Berry
Get me out of this radio wasteland