Hail, hail rock and roll / Deliver me from the days of old.
I'm a millionaire, but I cut the grass. And each time I cut it, it's my grass. And that is satisfying.
Everything I wrote about wasn't about me, but about the people listening.
Up come a flat top, he was movin' up with me.
Maybellene, why can't you be true?
Praise doesn't mean anything to me. I don't judge myself.