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.
[Thanks to KleShreen@hotmail.com for these lyrics]
