They're thirty-nine years old They're worth their weight in gold They work in busy offices I hope to God will fold They hated Vietnam They love the neutron bomb And they're your next door neighbors and your father and your mom They're the yuppies Yup yup yup They were hippies But they grew up They love money Do re mi They're the Class of '63 You know what else? They swing to the right They live in Jackson Heights They watch "St. Elsewhere," "Hill Street Blues," and "Dynasty" at night But when the workday's done They want to have some fun So they go out to discos and pretend they're twenty-one But they're not! They're the yuppies Yup yup yup They were hippies But they grew up They love money Do re mi They're the Class of '63 Yup yup yup Yup yup yup Yup yup yup Yup yup yup I tell you They're an ugly lot Who think they're pretty hot They know exactly where they were when Kennedy was shot But when they hit the skids They really flip their lids They sink a few martinis and go home and beat the kids They're the yuppies Yup yup yup They were hippies But they grew up They love money Do re mi They're the Class of '63 Fuck them!