I pride my record collection It's the only thing I like to do My dad insists they're evil things With satanic messages in their grooves He says he knows this for a fact 'Cause the good lord told him so And he doesn't want the voice of Satan Raging through his humble home Those records are the devil's music No kid of mine's gonna listen to them Sorry son, but you have no choice Can't have you hearing that devil's voice I told him to fuck off, and he punched my face Threw my records, full of faith Had a sledgehammer from out back Sabotaged my record rack He crushed all my imports and rarities Didn't even save the picture sleeves Afterwards I felt so weak With each broken record died a part of me ♪ Those records are the devil's music No kid of mine's gonna listen to them Sorry son, but you have no choice Can't have you hearing that devil's voice Sorry son, but you have no choice ♪ Whoa! But you have no choice I said you have no choice Well, do you have a choice? ♪ Merci beaucoup Thank you very much