Lyrics

MY LIFE IS A BEER COMMERCIAL
(Greg Tamblyn, Richard Helm)
© 1992 Ramblin’ Tamblyn Music, Taylor-Helm Music, BMI

I was watching TV, flipping through the games
Just another Saturday, they were looking all the same
I was feeling bored, overcome by inertia
And I thought, “Why can’t my life be like those beer commercials?”

With nothing to lose, I headed for the Quik-Sak
My hand started tingling as I reached for a six-pack
I knew something strange and cool was happening to me
When the checkout girl said, “No charge,” and “I get off at three!”

I headed for the parking lot, opened my first can
By the time I’d finished it, I had a golden tan
I popped open number two and took that first big swig
And my biceps started growing, and my shoulders got real big

I leaned against my car and started beer number three
And suddenly there was a sea of babes surrounding me
There was tank tops, cutoffs, long legs and hips
And this little redhead said, “Why ask why, big guy!” and licked her lips

I finished number three and number four was just in reach
I popped the top and presto, we were on a Caribbean beach
There was rock and roll, volleyball, and coolers full of brew
And the number one chick on the babe-o-meter said, “This bod’s for you!”

She said, “I’m proud to be your bud,” and kissed my ear
And all that I could think of was, “Sure is good beer!”
It was crystal clear to me as I started number five
That I’d become a hunk, and there was meaning in my life

But as I finished number five and opened number six
There was a drastic change in the behavior of the chicks
I noticed they we re flocking to a new dude on the scene
And as far as I could tell, he was drinking the same beer as me

I couldn’t believe my eyes, they were packing up to go
And why they wanted him, not me, I still didn’t know
So I asked him, “How come the babes are running off with you?”
And he said, “Because you’re drunk, stupid.”

(We now end the song here -- it's funnier.) But here's the last verse on the demo:

So there I was, all alone and back in the parking lot
Empty beer cans and bad breath was all I got
And even my last swallow was kind of warm and flat
And from somewhere a little voice said, “I love you, man!”