My Favorite Band Had Gotten Old

Lyrics by Cory Smith, music by J. Geils Band (Centerfold)

Come on!


Way back when, rock began,

music was complete

I would go to every show,

and get a front row seat


When my favorite bands played

The crowds would go insane

The memory of those glory days

Is etched upon my brain


Years go by I’m visiting the local county fair

Imagine my surprise to learn, my favorite band was there!


Their wheelchairs rolled

It wasn’t easy to behold

My favorite band had gotten old

Favorite band had gotten old 

Their songs went gold

With thirty million records sold

Favorite band had gotten old 


Some songs take on new meanings when

Their singers have become old men

Like “Every Breath You Take” and “Jump”

and “Living On A Prayer”

And all these songs, it seemed to me

Got sung in a slightly lower key

I recognized their voices

But they used to have more hair


It sounded great, I can’t complain

They hadn’t lost their touch

But seeing them put their dentures in

Was really just too much!


Their wheelchairs rolled

It wasn’t easy to behold

My favorite band had gotten old

Favorite band had gotten old 

Their songs went gold

With thirty million records sold

(Oh yeah)

Favorite band had gotten old 


Na-na, na-na-na-na 

Na-na-na, na-na-na-na 

Na-na, na-na-na-na 

Na-na-na, na-na-na-na 

Na-na, na-na-na-na 

Na-na-na, na-na-na-na 

Na-na, na-na-na-na 

Na-na-na, na-na-na-na


It's okay I understand

That nothing lasts forever, man

I know that when the band is gone

We still can listen to their songs

The Bee Gees all, passed away

They sang “Stayin’ Alive” though

And Gloria Ganor’s not quite gone 

Do you think “She Will Survive?” No


My fav band had their “final tour”

I knew the ticket price would soar

Oh no, I don’t deny it

I rushed, right out to buy it!


Their wheelchairs rolled

It wasn’t easy to behold

My favorite band had gotten old

Favorite band had gotten old 

Their songs went gold

With thirty million records sold

My favorite band had gotten old


Na-na, na-na-na-na 

Na-na-na, na-na-na-na 

(Alright, alright)

(One, two, three, four)

Na-na, na-na-na-na 

Na-na-na, na-na-na-na 

Na-na, na-na-na-na 

Na-na-na, na-na-na-na 

Na-na, na-na-na-na 

Na-na-na, na-na-na-na 

Na-na, na-na-na-na 

Na-na-na, na-na-na-na


Their wheelchairs rolled

It wasn’t easy to behold

My favorite band had gotten old

Favorite band had gotten old

When they got cold (oh yeah)

A big, huge afghan was unrolled

These guys are really old

Yes, these guys are really old


Na-na, na-na-na-na 

Na-na-na, na-na-na-na 

Na-na, na-na-na-na