Rock Cradle Rock

I was born under the sign of Libra
October, eighteen, seven o’clock
I must have had it bad, because in the cradle I had
My mother said, before noon I was trying to rock
For years I tried to make A grades
To satisfy my Mom and Pop
In music I’m boss, but in Math, I was lost
I guess my head was full of nothing but rock
Hear they’re swinging the Fox Trot at the hotel
Hear the country picking around the clock
Pick up some sounds of the jazz around
But if you dig what you hear, you dig rock
The thing I’m going to tell my dick jock
So he can sock it to me around the clock
Spend an hour of Bach in his original rock
And if you dig what he’s playing, you dig rock