Folk Singer

Intro verse 1 You be pissing in a bottle and you can’t see through the fog You know a trucker jack-knifed in the snow up ahead, for sure The radar’s got you clocked at 87 in a 55 The cops all want to search your car because they think you’re high You finally reach the club and they got no posters up You play to 12 people, half are puking in a cup You sell 2 CDs, give another 6 away You hoping that somebody has a place where you could stay verse 2 Got a 10 hour drive in the morning, don’t sweat it You’re thinking about the gig last night, you wish you could forget it You listen to a podcast of Radio lab You try to call your mom but end up yelling at your dad The car needs gas so you pull into the Come and Go The weather channel says that you’re about to hit some snow You sell 5 CDs, give another 8 away To add insult to injury, you had to pay to play You’re a folksinger, Folk folk singer You’re a washed up punk, still a dead ringer for a folksinger, you’re a folk folk singer For sure verse 3 The club owner said 'you should’ve played here last week cause right now its finals and no one makes a peep' He wishes that the money could’ve been a lot more But the deal was for a small percentage of the door 27 dollars and a couple foreign bills tried to pass the hat but everyone was high on pills Play a new song, No applause, just crickets The bartender says 'I’ll give you 2 drink tickets' You’re a folksinger, Folk folk singer You’re a washed up punk, still a dead ringer for a folksinger, you’re a folk folk singer For sure verse 4 You get a big break and get to do some radio But the DJ says 'It’s taped for next week’s show' It does you no good cause tonight you got the gig But you keep on smiling and dance a little jig The car starts whining and the engines running hot The gas station dude says 'your radiator’s shot' You sell 12 CDs, give none away The radiator took it all, it’s Ground Hog day You’re a folksinger, Folk folk singer You’re a washed up punk, still a dead ringer for a folksinger, you’re a folk folk singer For sure Verse 5 You get a good offer, for a gig in Atlanta But the airline sent your guitar all the way to Montana Get a real person on the phone from United You lose you cool and tell the dude to go bite it You borrow a guitar to try to cool your rage Walk into the club and someone else is on stage You sell no CDs, the club was double booked N.C. You never even got to play, you feel your life is overlooked You’re a folksinger, Folk folk singer You’re a washed up punk, still a dead ringer for a folksinger, you’re a folk folk singer For sure Verse 6 You finally get some sleep and there’s a nice blue sky And the airlines found your guitar all the way in Dubai They say that it will be there for your gig in Tallahassee But you ate some bad food, feeling kind of gassy Get a Motel 6, wish it was the Ritz At least you got a private place because you got the shits Sell 5 hats and 2 CDs Yes sir, no ma’am, Thank you please You’re a folksinger, Folk folk singer You’re a washed up punk, still a dead ringer for a folksinger, you’re a folk folk singer For sure Verse 7 Your manager calls you right before you play your show He says I think you should die your hair cause its white as snow Your girlfriend calls you as you leave the stage She saw a picture of you with a chick and now she’s in a rage Break up break down break it all to hell Charging all the damage to your hotel bill Sell 5 stickers for 50 cents you’re a folksinger now, you’re about to make a dent You’re a folksinger, Folk folk singer You’re a washed up punk, still a dead ringer for a folksinger, you’re a folk folk singer For sure Verse 8 Finally get some good news from the booking agent dude At the club tonight they’ll give you half off your food Place is packed gonna make your fee But they wouldn’t even turn off the Sports TV You feel like you climbed another rung on the ladder You’re another day older, another day fatter I’m a folk singer now in the pale moonlight N.C. That's how I'm standing right here on stage tonight I'm a folksinger, Folk folk singer I'm a washed up punk, still a dead ringer for a folksinger, I'm a folk folk singer For sure Outro N.C. I’m a folk-a-dee–folker N.C. I’m a Bram Stoker Joker N.C I’m a vampire smoker N.C I’m a mother folking folker today