My liberated parents
The´re going out tonight
They read the hippiest magazines
They´ve loosened their uptights
Dad´s wearing rea, tight Levis
And some Gucci tennis shoes
He got a T-shirt custome mad for him
Saying "Give Me Pot Not Booze"

I get kissed goodbye
I get numb and high
From all the smoke left on their breath
I smile and wish them well
And then I pray like hell
They go and dance themselves to death

Mom´s hair´s all green and dirty
She wears a high-tech Devo suit
She changed her name to Xerox
She hides quaaludes in her boots
Oh, me, I´m real embarrassed
When I hear the things they do
They kinda comprimise my social position
(And) my cool-ativity´s sufferin´ too!