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
