He doesn't have a problem with [bad word] 
He just doesn't get them
He's fine that his mates have tattoos
But he thinks they'll regret them
He likes going to pubs
But he hates when the music's too loud
He tends not to go to rock concerts
Cos he can't stand the crowd
But all he's ever wanted to be
Is a rock star on Rage or MTV
But he knows that it's not [bad word] likely
He's just turned thirty

He knows that he will always be
rock 'n' roll nerd
He'll keep writing songs the world will never hear
And though they won't be heard
He'll just keep writing
Oh yeah

But you see the problem is
He always dreamt of being a star
But he learned piano instead of guitar
Which in the nineties didn't get you very far
So while all the other kids were learning Stairway
He was the piano to their forte
But he was convinced one day
He'd rock their [bad word] asses
Be an icon for the disenfranchised masses
And grow his hair long
And rebel against the state
But just for now that'd have to wait
Cos [bad word] late for his morning classes

And he will always be
rock 'n' roll nerd
He'll keep playing gigs that no one knows about
And though it sounds absurd
He'll just keep playing
Oh yeah

But you see the problem is
There's not much depth in what he's singing
He's a victim of his upper middle class upbringing
So he can't write about the hood
Or bling bling
So he sits and imagines his girlfriend is dead
To try and invoke some angst in his middle class head
But the [bad word] is always fine at half past nine
When they go to bed
And he's not spent a single night in prison
He has no issues with nutrition
He has no drinking problem
And no [bad word] addiction
Unless you count the [bad word] they put in chicken
And marijuana always tends to make him cough
He doesn't look good with his t-shirt off
And when he tries to act tough you can tell he's trickin'

While his mates all go out late
Popping pills and having fun
He goes home and showers
And gets a good eight hours
He gets his thrills from his [bad word] 
And while his mates all go on dates
Taking speed and drinking cans of Jim Bean
He stays home and cooks
Curls up with a book
With the girl he's had since he was seventeen

Cos he's never really been part of the scene
Give him guns 'n' roses, he'll take Queen
He's more into Beatles than The Stones
He's more Stevie Wonder than Ramones
And he's never owned a panel van
He's never shot a Panterra fan
He doesn't know the difference between metal and thrash
He couldn't tell you nothing about Axel and Slash
He likes Ben Folds to the Jackson Five
He knows all the words to Staying Alive
And though he wants to be all [bad word] and cool
He spent eleven years in a private school

So it don't matter how he tries
He cannot hide behind his rock 'n' roll lies
Cos you've either got it or you don't
You'll either rock it or you won't
Yeah, you've either got it or you don't
Yeah, you'll either rock it or you won't

He knows that his music lacks depth
But it just can't be helped
He has nothing interesting to say
So he writes about himself
But he doesn't want to seem self obsessed
So he writes in third person
In an attempt to seem more rock 'n' roll
But he suspects it's not workin'
And deep in his heart he knows
That he'll never be Silver Chair or Eskimo Joe
And even if he was quite pretty
With small pants like Kylie

He knows that he
Will always be
rock 'n' roll nerd
He'll keep writing songs the world don't care about
And though it sounds absurd
He'll just keep writing
Oh yeah
You can criticise him
But he won't care