The Imitator

THE IMITATOR

He’s got leather boots and a cowboy hat

Big Pink House and a Caddilac

Shows up to work all dressed in black

Slingin’ a Martin guitar

Still out looking for Maria

Says he’ll know her when he sees her

Tonight he’s singing crowd-pleasers

In the corner of the bar

That’s the one they call the Imitator

You let your conscience be the indicator

Cause deep down you know the greatest entertainers are dead

So you do yourself a favor, call the Imitator instead

Out here in the valley

You rumble through the alley

You got a friend, he’s a real pal

He can fix your car for free

And at the end of a long day of buffin’ out scuffs

Couple bottles of beer and a couple puffs

Ain’t no use in calling a man’s bluff

If he does a damn good Bobby McGhee

That’s when you call upon the Imitator

You let your conscience be the indicator

Cause deep down you know the greatest entertainers are dead

So you do yourself a favor, call the Imitator instead

It’ alright, it’s alright

Some people run from the spotlight

It’s alright, it’s alright

Some folks still fighting the good fight

Blasting old records at midnight

Strumming through their hits like it’s the Isle of Wight

Callin’ it quits cause it just don’t sound right

Ain’t that the story of the Imitator?

You let your conscience be the indicator

Cause deep down you know the greatest entertainers are dead

So you do yourself a favor, call the Imitator instead