All you give me are…
Drummers. And I asked for guitar.
Close enough should get the cigar.
I came, I saw, I took my pictures, then I sauntered back to the car.
Disappointment turns lethargic folks into bruisers and looters and shooters.
Long time listeners, first time disputers.
And the bull inside the china shop was only there to look around
But the owner called security and tranquilizers took him down.
We’re cookin’ now. Listen how we spit and sizzle.
You’ll discover most of us are mostly gristle.
All you give me are…
Drummers. And I asked for bass.
Give me a chance, I’ll make my case.
A place for everything and everything forgets its place.
I’m getting face time with a straight dime self-loather.
Sympathetic sounds and a blank smile until it’s over.
Like they say: “No pain, no pain.”
Leave me to hang, my mood won’t swing.
Good things come to those who wait but I prefer the sooner things.
To the victors go the spoiled brats.
The losers get a pile of envy.
Glass half full but the metaphor is empty.
All you give me are…
Drummers. And I asked for keyboards.
I zig when I should zag.
Virtue is its own reward if some rewards can be a drag.
I always think what I really wanna know’s in the ellipses.
You’re shooting for the moon and landing in a striptease.
Not a good time to be showing weakness.
Far as you know, I’ve got no secrets.
Sticks and stones can break my bones but nothing hurts my feelings.
You’ve got passions to neglect and hobbies to shirk.
You only love me for my body of work.
And all you give me are…
Drummers. And I asked for silence.
Wrong kind of racket drives me to violence.
I’ll be screaming my displeasure ‘til the commotion quiets.
It’s not me against the World, it’s me against an army of straw men.
Throw a party in my honor and I might drop in.
Get used to the fact
Mostly what you’ll feel is a lack.
Even what you thought you had in the bag ain’t coming back intact.
Maybe you don’t even know what you want yet.
Doesn’t matter. Drummers are all that you’re gonna get.