Pay no heed to him, my dear
He knows not right from wrong
He ain't a good and righteous man
He's the singer of the song

Though he'll philosophize and prophesize
And weave his poetry
Take a look into his eyes
And his empty vanity

But the singer of the song cares little
For your troubled lives
He does his set and gets his pay
And goes home to his wife

He's not the one you thought he was
His legend is a lie
He used to be famous
But you can't remember why

Though he sings of things familiar
Things you feel and know
He ain't never been through it
It's just a part of the show

But the singer of the song feels nothing
As you throw your eggs and knives
Does his gig and gets his pay
And gets on with his life

He delivers all his words just like
They're whispered just to you
But every secret he reveals
You already knew

He'll sell you the illusion
That he's pouring out his soul
But when opens up his mouth
It's just one more empty hole

But the singer of the song cares little
For your ordinary lives
He does his gig and gets his pay
And goes home with your wife

The posters say that on his day
He's the greatest show on earth
If you're entertained by tragedy
You'll get your money's worth