Well you see
|
I wanna sell a million records
|
but my music sucks
|
so what am I to do?
|
|
They say an artist is appreciated after he's dead
|
I have no talent but
|
I bet that it's still true!
|
|
The lyrics all suck and
|
the chords are too funky
|
We're on a major label
|
'cause we're just plain lucky
|
|
We sold 4 albums
|
to our own mothers
|
we have a few supporters
|
but there aren't many others!
|
|
[Chorus]
|
What if I could live
|
if they all would think I'm dead
|
oh just what if I could have my
|
cake and eat it too
|
|
I'd be set for life
|
no more struggles no more strife
|
let the money do the talking
|
I'm a dead man walking!
|
[end of chorus]
|
|
Kill myself
|
and all our record sales will shoot up
|
like an addict
|
or that poser Eminem
|
|
Make it mystery
|
and let them spot me just like Elvis
|
it wouldn't matter
|
cause I'd still be dead to them
|
|
I'd simply sit back in
|
a house all secluded
|
out in the forest
|
self sufficient (pool included)
|
|
Let my name take the place of Fred Durst
|
I could have it all
|
if my label doesn't kill me first
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
-----------------
|
Fake My Own Death And Go Platinum
|
Psychostick |