They say ambition is an enemy of greatness
And greatness is an enemy of fame
When I pick up my guitar
And I try to write a song
I think of what my mentor used to say:
"Who fucking gives a rat's ass, Steve?
Just write a love song
Cause they'll keep your belly full
And your wallet lined
Don't bother these nice people
With your sad sack songs
If you ask me
I think they're just a waste of time"
Inspiration is the best friend of my sorrow
And sorrow is the best friend of my drink
Well I wanna look myself in the eye tomorrow
But I'm too worried about what other folks will think
"Who fucking gives a rat's ass, Steve?
Just write a love song
See a counselor
If you need to ease your troubled mind
And could you please sit over there
I don't want you crying in my beer
Do you want some cheese with all that whine?"
There's a song that I keep trying to sing to no one
But I'm afraid that it's too short or it's too long
And to add to all the things that I'm afraid of
The devil stopped sending me his songs
And the troubles in my heart need to get let out
The troubles in my heart need to escape
And I never liked writing poetry
And I never liked doing pottery
And god knows that I never learned to paint
So every now and then, I'll sing a sad song
Cause it keeps my spirit like my conscience clean
And if you don't care to hear it
I don't mind if you go out for some air
Cause I'm happy that you're happier than me
I'm happy that you're happier than me
I'm happy that you're happier than me