The Critic

Tell it like it is

He gets up real early on his mornin drive

Down to the office for his 9 to 5

He drives a 94 2 ton economy car

Loves to tell the local bands down at the bar

That he's The Critic

Yea I can hook you up I know everybody

In the business

He flunked junior high band

He couldn't march in time

He tried to write a song once

He couldn't 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 he's 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 can't even tell

If anybody's 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 20 000 dollars

After taxes

He's a happy critic

He's rollin in the dough

Man I could do this forever

This is easy Everybody's readin my column

Please don't tell my mom

That I write the music column for the Gazette

She still thinks I play piano down

At the Cathouse

Let's get funky with this now boys Play it on out

Come on Shannon

There's ole Biff jumpin in

is layin it down

Come on Shannon

Aww yea my man Steve

Man my fingers are gettin tired

Y'all gonna have to hurry

This snappin thing wearin me out

Hello Shannon

Guess he's on coffee break man

They're gonna love you

Cause they already love me

Yea

It's the Critic