You stand so high... I can see you from miles and miles away. My thoughts are drowned out by the sounds of the words you say. And I know (I know) everything there is to know about you... (but not cuz I want to.) I ll hold a gun to the head of the kings of rock and roll. (Until they re all dead.) Another message on the microphone, on the golden microphone. Another message-less message on the microphone... on the golden microphone. Cuz it s just another sucker on the microphone... on the golden microphone. Go... It s an all out war on our senses, but it makes no sense. Just another gimmick with a pretty face... but there s no place to hide. And I know (we know) everything there is to know about you... but not cuz we want to. And I ll hold a gun to your head... I ll hold a gun to your head. (Until rock and roll is dead.) Dead... dead. Rock and roll is dead... I ll paint my microphone gold. Rock and roll is dead... I ll paint my microphone gold. Rock and roll is dead...