The Critic

Tell it like it is
He gets up real early on his mornin drive
Down to the office for his 9to 5
He drives a 942ton economy car
Loves to tell the local bands down at the bar
That hes The Critic
Yea I can hook you up I know everybody
In the business
He flunked junior high band
He couldnt march in time
He tried to write a song once
He couldnt make it rhyme
He went two or three chords on a pawn shop guitar
He just never quite had what it took to be a star
So hes a critic
I work for the Gazette man I got a real job
He did a 5-star column on a band he never heard
He did a bluegrass review about an unkind word
He thought it was time to ask his boss for a raise
His boss said I cant even tell
If anybodys even readin your page
Yea
So he thought and he thought a little more
He caught a young hot star headin into town
And then he hid behind his typewriter
And gunned the boy down
Here come the letters the e-mails
The faxes they raised him to 20 000dollars
After taxes
Hes a happy critic
Hes rollin in the dough
Man I could do this forever
This is easy Everybodys readin my column
Please dont tell my mom
That I write the music column for the Gazette
She still thinks I play piano down
At the Cathouse
Lets get funky with this now boys Play it on out
Come on Shannon
Theres ole Biff jumpin in
is layin it down
Come on Shannon
Aww yea my man Steve
Man my fingers are gettin tired
Yall gonna have to hurry
This snappin thing wearin me out
Hello Shannon
Guess hes on coffee break man
Theyre gonna love you
Cause they already love me
Yea
Its the Critic