From Madam Wong's to StarwoodnTo the Whiskey on the stripnYou can hear the crashing, blasting strumnOf bands that come to be real hipnAnd get a record contractnFrom a talent scout somedaynThey'll sell their ass, their cocks and ballsnThey'll take the check 'n' walk awaynnIf they're lucky they'll get famousnFor a week or two perhapsnThey'll buy some ugly clothes to wearnAnd hope the business don't collapsenBefore some stupid magazinenDecides they're really goodnThey're a Tinsel Town Rebellion BandnFrom downtown HollywoodnnTinsel Town Rebellion,nTinsel Town Rebellion BandnIt's a little bitty Tinsel Town RebellionnA Tinsel Town Rebellion BandnnThey used to play all kinds of stuffnAnd some of it was nicenSome of it was musicalnBut then they took some guy's advicenTo get a record deal, he saidnThey would have to be more punknForget their chops and play real dumbnOr else they would be sunknSo off they go to S.I.R. to learn some stupid riffsnnAnd practice all their posesnIn between their powder sniffsnChop up a line now, snort it up nownnAnd when they think they've got itnThey launch a new careernWho gives a fuck if what they playnIs somewhat insincerennTinsel Town Rebellion,nTinsel Town Rebellion BandnA Tinsel Town RebellionnA Tinsel Town Rebellion BandnnDid you know that in Tinsel Town the people therenThink substance is a borenAnd if your New Wave group looks goodnThey'll hurry on back for morenOf leather groups and plastic groupsnAnd groups that look real queernThe Tinsel Town aficionadosnCome to see and not to hearnBut then again this system worksnAs perfect as a dreamnIt works for all those record company pricksnWho come to skim the creamnnFrom the cesspools of excitementnWhere Jim Morrison once stoodnIt's the Tinsel Town RebellionnFrom downtown Hollywood