Margaritaville

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(to Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville)

No more can I take
Radio’s soul mate
Tired of Buffet’s tunage of gold
Help me, come free me
From this old ditty
Thirty years, it’s beginning to mold

Listenin’ to stations play his Margaritaville
Can’t you find more songs inside your vault?
Ain’t it a shame,
Can’t you find more songs to play?
Can’t ya go
Find more songs that rock?

I find that it’s pleasin’
This shiny sun season
Lovin’ the beach, sea, and summertime moon
But here comes a drunk whack
He’s one shy a six pack
Chugging a beer to that seventies tune

Grating away again to Margaritaville
Blaring from the large speakers on yachts
No way to tame
The crowds of people who sway
If they’re high
I hope they get caught.

Tequila with salt top
Triple sec, one shot
Lemon squeeze or some lime juice you own
When I hear the offender
The tune I remember
I’ll pour me a tall one and play the Ramones

Can’t get away, my friend, from Margaritaville
The three chords my old mem’ry should toss
It’s so ingrained
I fear a blood clot in brain
It’s an ode
To taste that’s been lost

It’s so ingrained
Will all the stations refrain?
But we know
It’s all Jimmy’s fault.

Copyright 2010 Warren Baker
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Rock Singer in a Pair of Tights

(to the tune Cheeseburger in Paradise)

Stopped singing on stage, and I’d missed it.
Made it nearly seventeen days,
Sittin’ all day in my chair, losing all of my hair,
Watchin’ lots of tv and eatin chocolate eclairs.

But at night I’d dream of those wonderful times
A true narcissistic treat
Not shaving, or behaving, or wondering what’s to eat,
Just me, a guitar, and my fans on their feet.

I’m a rock singer in a pair of tights
Singin’ on key almost every night.
I won’t hit the hay till the mornin’ light.
I'm just a rock singer in a pair of tights.

Verse 2
You hear about those mythical bands of men,
They sing the same thing again and again;
They’re aged sixty-six and singin’ tired hits.
Well they’re singing 90 minutes when they should be slingin’ grits.

But tunes have changed for artists these days.
They’re cookie cutter to be polite;
Not just crappy or just nappy, no Joie de vivre
They’re simply very awful and not what you need.

You need a rock singer in a pair of tights,
I’m paid here to sing and not to be nice
If you want to be cool, just take my advice
And be a rock singer in a pair of tights.

I like fans who stand and pump their fists
Who know all my songs and not just the hits
Stompin’ both their feet just an amazing sound
Get on the road tomorrow and then another town.

I’m just a rock singer in a pair of tights
Enjoyin’ my time on the stage and in lights.
Keep me away, and you’ll violate my rights
To be a rock singer in a pair of tights;
Just be a rock singer in a pair of tights.
I'm just a rock singer in a pair of tights.

I like fans who stand and pump their fists
Who know all my songs and not just the hits
Stompin’ both their feet just an amazing sound
Get on the road tomorrow and then another town.
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©2009 Warren Baker
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