"Look... if you had one shot or one opportunity to seize everything you ever wanted, but then you blew it, would you move on with your life: with a new goal, a new dream, or would you just stew about it and grow old and angry and bitter? Yo..."
You've seen him parked in the dark of the bar
A PBR-soaked guitarist is hardly a rock star
He's fallen far, his stomach rumbles from his drunken hunger
He mumbles something, grumbling about when he was younger
When he was bad-ass, man, he had and a van and some fans
And some extra cash from his Black Flag cover band
Sans backup plan and all his eggs in one basket
Had he a question about his quest, he never asked it
In his early 20's in his heart of hearts and his mind
He knew he would make plenty, only a matter a time
He would find the time to tour and write, eventually he would find
An interested indie label to which he would sign
He bravely faced every challenge that came along
And before long, grew to be the biggest fish in his pond
And every other summer he replaced another drummer
Now he's just another number of drunks who went under. Bummer
(CHORUS):
Nobody listens to the bitching of the bitter musician
He's sitting in his kitchen with his dirty dishes
This is it for him, he'll never have a hit or big riches
His vision fizzled cold, and he's so old when it hits him
Feeling so entitled to the that which he doesn't have
But he's too busy belly-aching about it to laugh
At himself, man, he's got nothing left, not even his health
No lemonade's been made from the lemons he's been dealt
Once upon a time, he was the king of the scene
But it didn't last, no, that passed fast, now he's mean
He says, "Everybody in town, they all know about me."
Yeah, because he talks about his history continuously
As he preaches of the good ole days, the golden age of shows
And all the bands with which he's played shows now nobody knows
Bars close, he goes home and goes waking up his neighbors when
He's drinking Jameson playing his tapes again, and then
In the corner of his eye he spies a spider, right beside him
Spinning webs across his head in a photo on a flyer
From a hundred years ago back when he was handsome and thinner
Back before he was jaded, back when he was a beginner
He gave it his all, his best shot when he was trying
Now he chalks his losses up to bad luck and worse timing
He even faked it when he couldn't take it, dues came and he paid them
He laid it on the table, but he never made it
(CHORUS)
Lose yourself in the music, the moment, you know it
Let him down so very hard that he disowned it
And so he goes around bad-mouthing the whole scene and
These kids who are the age he was when he had his dream
And he's gone now, I guess he finally fell to obscurity
Or grew tired of having to ask "Haven't you heard of me?"
The rumors flew, I'm not exactly sure what happened
Last I heard he put on a black suit and started rapping
Nobody listens to the bitching of the bitter musician
He's sitting in his kitchen with his dirty dishes
This is it for him, he'll never have a hit or big riches
His vision fizzled cold, and he's so old when it hits him
(CHORUS)
"Hey man, you can accomplish anything if you just put your mind to it. I'm just kidding."