| Hey, mr. reporter, |
| How 'bout talking about yourself? |
| Do you like what you’re doing, |
| Or is it that you can do nothing else? |
| Hey, mr. reporter, |
| I’ll believe all that you put down. |
| I’ll believe the sun is going up, |
| Even though it’s going down. |
| Hey, mr. reporter, |
| Don’t you twist my words around. |
| I’ll kill you, i won’t let you, |
| Distort my simple sound. |
| Hey, mr. reporter, |
| How 'bout talking about yourself? |
| Do you like what you’re doing, |
| Or is it that you can do nothing else? |
| Hey, mr. reporter, |
| How 'bout talking about yourself? |
| Do you like what you’re doing, |
| Or is it that you can do nothing else? |
| Did your daddy stop you playing |
| With your friends when you were young? |
| And is that why you run down |
| All the young folks have their fun. |
| The reason i am stupid, |
| Is because i read you every day. |
| You misquote all of the true things |
| Because they rub you the wrong way. |
| Hey, mr. reporter, |
| How 'bout talking about yourself? |
| Do you like what you’re doing, |
| Or is it that you can do nothing else? |