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!