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Chinn/Chapman So your old man went and called you a degenerate bum And you stood there crackin` on your cinnamon gun And your Ma was knockin` at your sister`s brains And you couldn`t help thinkin` what she hoped to gain Just then that freak walked in the door And knocked me to the floor You said, hey man, you`re on some kind of trip He said, don`t give me no lip Just turn it down, come on turn it down I can`t take no more of that God awful sound So for God`s sake turn it down Now the suspicious minds of your learned friends Will eat away at your kind `til the music ends And the creep that taught you everything you know Will hypocritically ask you what the hell you know He`ll go out and mess around, then go home without a sound You said, hey man, you`re some kinda monk He said, listen here you punk Just turn it down, come on turn it down I can`t take no more of that God awful sound So for God`s sake turn it down Turn it down, just turn it down Come on turn it down, I said turn it down Come on turn it down, just turn it down I can`t take no more of that God awful sound So for God`s sake turn it down |