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They say ambition is an enemy of greatness |
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And greatness is an enemy of fame |
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When I pick up my guitar |
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And I try to write a song |
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I think of what my mentor used to say: |
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"Who ****ing gives a rat's ass, Steve? |
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Just write a love song |
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Cause they'll keep your belly full |
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And your wallet lined |
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Don't bother these nice people |
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With your sad sack songs |
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If you ask me |
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I think they're just a waste of time" |
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Inspiration is the best friend of my sorrow |
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And sorrow is the best friend of my drink |
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Well I wanna look myself in the eye tomorrow |
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But I'm too worried about what other folks will think |
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"Who ****ing gives a rat's ass, Steve? |
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Just write a love song |
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See a counselor |
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If you need to ease your troubled mind |
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And could you please sit over there |
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I don't want you crying in my beer |
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Do you want some cheese with all that whine?" |
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There's a song that I keep trying to sing to no one |
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But I'm afraid that it's too short or it's too long |
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And to add to all the things that I'm afraid of |
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The devil stopped sending me his songs |
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And the troubles in my heart need to get let out |
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The troubles in my heart need to escape |
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And I never liked writing poetry |
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And I never liked doing pottery |
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And god knows that I never learned to paint |
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So every now and then, I'll sing a sad song |
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Cause it keeps my spirit light, my conscience clean |
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And if you don't care to hear it |
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I don't mind if you go out for some air |
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Cause I'm happy that you're happier than me |
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I'm happy that you're happier than me |
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I'm happy that you're happier than me |
