| Your company is only in for money
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| And honest managers are hard to find
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| On your own you’ll never hit the big time
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| And when you do the taxman robs you blind
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| Although your fans wil tear the place to pieces
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| You’ll never ever get a good review
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| The press won’t spill a word on your next album
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| And you won’t get the airplay if they do
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| Just tell the whites it’s country and western
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| Just tell the blacks it’s rhythm and blues
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| Just tell the intellectuals it’s jazzrock
|
| And when it sells just tell them they can choose
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| Romantic highway life is only boring
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| You never get a decent meal to eat
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| The songs you write are mostly pretty ballads
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| And all your fans just like a drivin' beat
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| You know that drugs are ruining your body
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| You know speed kills so you’re just getting pissed
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| And off the booze you only live on downers
|
| So you will not regret the chicks you missed
|
| Just tell the whites it’s country and western
|
| Just tell the blacks it’s rhythm and blues
|
| Just tell the intellectuals it’s jazzrock
|
| And when it sells just tell them
|
| Just tell the whites it’s country and western
|
| Just tell the blacks it’s rhythm and blues
|
| Just tell the intellectuals it’s jazzrock
|
| And when it sells just tell them they can choose |