With every pair of cheap sunglasses,
Every search for tush,
We mourn the thunder as it passes,
Gonna miss you much.
The suits were sharp the lines were tight,
The beards were something else,
For fifty years you did it right,
In all things you excelled.
That driving bass was set on "Thrill",
Until one day it stopped,
Let's raise a glass to Dusty Hill,
The bottom of the Top.
Every search for tush,
We mourn the thunder as it passes,
Gonna miss you much.
The suits were sharp the lines were tight,
The beards were something else,
For fifty years you did it right,
In all things you excelled.
That driving bass was set on "Thrill",
Until one day it stopped,
Let's raise a glass to Dusty Hill,
The bottom of the Top.
+2