Cruisin, downtown in your camaro,
reo speedwagon on the stereo.
it's kind of carchy, kind of a virus,
cutting your hair like billy ray cyrus.
you're probably bummed, you probably cried,
you're probably sad that the guy from lynyrd skynyrd died,
all night long.
Chorus:
feel the power of the phantom mullet,
fremble and cower from the phantom mullet,
white metal burn of the phantom mullet,
combed straight or permed it the phantom mullet,
and you, cutting it short on top,
i want that for me.
growing it long in the back,
so savage and so free.
drop into first you're taking it slow,
you're such a rock-star,
you could never know.
i wish i was singing, "oh, oh, oh", all night long.