I'll never be a pro
Won't make it to the show
I'm like the plant you pissed on that ain't never gonna grow
My talent levels low
My brains works in slow mo
The more I think about it, should have gave up years ago
Keep my eyes on the prize
And do it DIY
Pretending to like poverty is part of my disguise
I think we're on the rise
Oh wait, that's just a lie
Still waiting for that chart topper but now I realize
THAT I'D STILL SELL OUT
Song writing's getting worse
It's kinda like a curse
I'm cruising to the finish line but fuck I'm in reverse
I guess we should rehearse
But everyone's dispersed
It's like this band's a shit river, I'm diving in head first
And once upon a time
I used to have my pride
I gave that all up years ago and now my hands are tied
But I think i'm doing fine
With the fact that music died
Cuz all I really want in life is keys to the free ride
CUZ I'D STILL SELL OUT

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