Who hocks the headlines who sets the style Behind the deadlines behind the smile He's the man digging dirt trying to keep himself clean He's the pimp he's the prostitute mister magazine Where someone suffers he's always there To make it rougher to foul the air He's perfected the art of the vicious and mean Just a day at the office for mister magazine Conscience has he any (not much) Ideals no not many Only what a penny buys Remorse he can't feel it His source won't reveal it Of course it's the public's right to buy it I'll keep on praying there'll come a day I hear them saying you've gone away And we won't shed a tear as you're leaving the scene It's a pleasure not knowing you mister magazine mister magazine Mister magazine Mister magazine Mister magazine Mister magazine Mister magazine