The Critic — текст песни (Toby Keith)

Tell it like it is...



He gets up real early on his mornin drive.

Down to the office for his 9 to 5.

He drives a 94, 2 ton, economy car.

Loves to tell the local bands down at the bar that he`s The Critic.



Yea, I can hook you up, I know everybody, in the business.



He flunked junior high band he couldn`t march in time.

He tried to write a song once, he couldn`t make it rhyme.

He went two or three chords on a pawn shop guitar, he just never quite had what it took to be a star, so he`s a critic.



I work for the Gazette man...I got a real job.



He did a 5-star column on a band he never heard.

He did a bluegrass review about an unkind word.

He thought it was time to ask his boss for a raise, his boss said I can`t even tell if anybody`s even readin your page.



Yea...



So he thought...and he thought a little more.



He caught a young hot star headin into town, and then he hid behind his typewriter and gunned the boy down.

Here come the letters, the e-mails, the faxes, they raised him to 20,000 dollars after taxes.



He`s a happy critic...



He`s rollin in the dough...



Man I could do this forever...this is easy. Everybody`s readin my column!



Please don`t tell my mom, that I write the music column for the Gazette.

She still thinks I play piano down at the Cathouse.



Let`s get funky with this now boys...Play it on out.



Come on Shannon.



There`s ole Biff jumpin in.



?? is layin it down.



Come on Shannon.



Aww yea, my man Steve.



Man my fingers are gettin tired...y`all gonna have to hurry. This snappin thing...wearin me out.



Hello Shannon.



Guess he`s on coffee break man.



They`re gonna love you...cause they already love me.



(Yea!)



It`s the Critic.



[Thanks to KleShreen@hotmail.com for these lyrics]