Words and music by Robbie Smith
He’s been dragging his body from pillar to post on the road,
And his creative spark has grown dark where once it had glowed;
And now – nothing new comes to mind,
Now – it’s just the same tired grind –
Bar after bar of fast-drinking, truck-driving men…
CROWD PLEASERS – that’s all they want him to play these days,
CROWD PLEASERS – there’s nothing new left to say;
Something familiar – that’s what they’re after,
Something to go with the beer and the laughter,
CROWD PLEASERS – that’s all they want him to play.
Now, there’s so much that he wants to say but he can’t find the words,
I guess he’s misplaced them with melodies that’ll never be heard,
But by times – on some long, weary ride,
Sometimes he feels a song drowning inside;
Once inspired, now too tired to pick up his pen –
So, it’s the same thing again, now…
CROWD PLEASERS – that’s all they want him to play these days,
CROWD PLEASERS – there’s nothing new left to say;
Something familiar – that’s what they’re after,
Something to go with the beer and the laughter,
CROWD PLEASERS – that’s all they want him to play.
With a bit more promotion he figures he might have gone far,
With a bit more devotion he might have been more
Than a voice in a dark, dingy bar…
Now, he’s thinking of packing it in – tell the world that he’s through,
But he knows if he did, well, there isn’t much else he could do,
So, for now, he just opens his case –
Takes out his six-string and tries to embrace
The mem’ry of how it was when he played way back when –
But that was then, now it’s…
CROWD PLEASERS – that’s all they want him to play these days,
CROWD PLEASERS – there’s nothing new left to say;
Something familiar – that’s what they’re after,
Something to go with the beer and the laughter,
CROWD PLEASERS – that’s all they want him to play.
CROWD PLEASERS – that’s all they want him to play.