Unpublished Critics

I’m just a shy romantic with my eyes on the loose
I’m in an overcoated way
A poet in a garret
You know some people say
Standing at the barline with my lip on the curl
I’m with the other lean and lear
My finger on the pulse
And my hand around a beer
Ahh Ahhhh
Well I don’t wanna know what’s going round here
Ahh Ahhhh
I’ve got to get away to get away
The singer in the band he sweat on a pose
And he’s really such a jerk
Thinks he can call me stupid
Because he gets alot of work
I’m standing in the background
Got my arms on the fold
And every dog’s gonna have it’s day
A new musical express
And my own four way P. A
It’s just a matter of time
Hold it under light
Ahh Ahhhh
I’ve got to get away to get away to get away
Well I’ve been reading those biographies in paperback
I’ve got a death — wish that I can’t explain
I’ve been working on the petulance
And the urchin took my name
I’m standing in the background
Got my arms on the fold
And every dog’s gonna have it’s day
A new musical express
And my own four way P. A
It’s just a matter of time
Hold it under light
Ahh Ahhhh
I’ve got to get away to get away to get away