I prefer to do than listen.
I’m a hooligan windmill — not storm force,
but I sway big trees.
So just gimme a light and a can of strong brew,
and I’ll spark up a hoolie… spark up a hoolie anew!!
C’mon — hah!!
Hoolie ama hoolie, hoolie ama hoolie, hoolie ama hoolie man.
Hoolie ama hoolie, hoolie ama hoolie, hoolie ama hoolie man.
I’m the son of a Viking madman and a druid priestess.
She looked into my eyes and read my future…
…it wasn’t pretty.
Hoolie man.
I’m a man of a thousand faces, phases, phasers, and phrases —
phrases that can kiss the blood like beer,
to bring the most beautiful ones among us to tears.
I was born good… I suppose.
But then just followed my nose
off the beaten track,
and now it’s too late in the night to change.
So just gimme a light and a can of strong brew,
and I’ll spark up a hoolie… spark up a hoolie anew!!
I’m a renegade spirit — Cochise still fires his arrows
and his carbine inside my heart.
And when me and me friends are on the Berserker brew,
it’s the only time I feel brand new.