It's the same old story about the hometown boy
The hometown boy that never made it
He had the goods... But caught the bads
We hoped that he could learn to shake it
He barely tried and his head got fried
And was last seen goin' under

The juice comes up
The hit goes down
The head goes back
And the lids come down
Oh my... How can I feel like this all the time?

It's the same old story about the hometown boy
The hometown boy that never made it
A handsome boy... He could sell the sting
We hoped that he could learn to use it
He had the jive and the gift of gab
He could make the girls move their knees

The juice comes up
The hit goes down
The head goes back
And the lids come down
Oh my... How can I feel like this all the time?

Oh my... How can I?
Oh my... How can I feel like this all the time?
I bet I can't

The juice comes up
The hit goes down
The head goes back
And the lids come down
Oh my... How can I feel like this all the time?

It's the same old story about the hometown boy
The hometown boy that never made it
He couldn't cope... Without the dope
Until his time had passed him by
His friends moved on one by one
And he finally really did go under