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!