Six of one and half a dozen
Black guitars and plastic blues
Hide behind a wall of nothing
Nothing said and nothing new

Four chords that made a million
Four chords that made a million, million, million

You belong there on the cover
You are the emperor in new clothes
man who thinks he owns the future
Will sell your vacuum with his prose

Four chords that made a million
Four chords that made a million, million, million
Four chords that made a million, million, million

And then a moron with a cheque book
Will take you out to lunch, who knows?
He will tell you, you're a saviour
And then he'll drop you like a stone

Four chords that made a million
Four chords that made a million, million, million
Four chords that made a million, million, million

And I have tried and I have died
Trying to get through
But in the end, I can't defend you

Four chords that made a million
Four chords that made a million, million, million
Four chords that made a million, million, million
Four chords that made a million, million, million