[Intro – bluesy riff, stoner doom style]
You gotta believe me, man… this really happened.
He had socks… with holes in ‘em… and those damn rubber shoes…
⸻
[Verse 1]
I was just walkin’ through the Walmart lot
When I heard a grunt and smelled some pot
A raspy voice yelled “Hey, you freak!”
He was shirtless, sweat-stained, missin’ teeth
Had an eagle tat from ‘Nam, I think
Was sippin’ gin from a Slurpee drink
Said I looked like Karl Marx’ son
Then tried to fight me with a water gun
⸻
[Chorus]
Boomers wear Crocs — and scream at the sky
Talk about freedom — then call you Antifa and cry
They storm the stores for cottage cheese
Then ask the manager — while yellin’ “Please!”
⸻
[Verse 2]
He drove a golf cart, spray-painted black
With a Confederate flag and Trump in the back
Said Fauci chipped his Applebee’s plate
And Obama was born in a UFO crate
Told me TikTok was made by Satan
And Biden’s a clone from Ronald Reagan
Then he farted and blamed it on “woke”
Lit a firecracker and vanished in smoke
⸻
[Bridge – heavy riff, slow down]
(Whisper-growl)
He’s the king of recliners, the menace of malls
The Croc crusader of bathroom stalls
He’ll flip you off in a Medicare vest
Then moon you while watchin’ Fox News on his chest
⸻
[Final Chorus – chant w/ gang vocals]
Boomers wear Crocs — and socks with holes
Still call weed “dope” and blame rock ‘n’ roll
They rage on Facebook — and vote with pride
But can’t find the remote right next to their side
Boomers wear Crocs — and dance like hell
At VFWs with a taco shell
So if you see one comin’ with that Bass Pro glare…
Just run, my dude… and say a prayer
⸻
[Outro – chaotic jam, chicken clucks in the background for no reason]
“Back in my day…”
“SHUT UP, DALE!”