Tom Paxton - Sing for the Song lyrics
[Tom Paxton - Sing for the Song lyrics]
Sometimes you sing for the money
Sometimes you sing for the show
Sometimes you sing for those
Dewey eyed darlings who still makes
Em cry doncha now
One time you sang for the glory
But the glory didn't last very long
Through the haze of the stage you
Look back to the days
When you used to sing for the song
Sing for the Song, boy
Just like you did when you
Stood on that corner
And you didn't even feel the cold
Sing for the Song, boy
Just like you did before all of the cocaine
And flashbulbs and bright painted ladies
Got ahold of your song
But you really don't make that much money
And you don't put on much of a show
And those Dewey-eyed darlings next
Week will be
Crying for somebody else doncha know
And the tune is becoming your burden
And the words all sound twisted and wrong
And the song that you sell
It don't taste quite as
Well as when you used to sing for the song
Sing for the Song, boy
Just like you did when you
Stood on that corner
And you didn't even feel the cold
Sing for the Song, boy
Just like you did before all of the cocaine
And flashbulbs and bright painted ladies
Got ahold of your song
Sing for the Song, boy
Just like you did when you
Stood on that corner
And you didn't even feel the cold
Sing for the Song, boy
Just like you did before all of the cocaine
And flashbulbs and bright painted ladies
Got ahold of your soul
Sometimes you sing for the show
Sometimes you sing for those
Dewey eyed darlings who still makes
Em cry doncha now
One time you sang for the glory
But the glory didn't last very long
Through the haze of the stage you
Look back to the days
When you used to sing for the song
Sing for the Song, boy
Just like you did when you
Stood on that corner
And you didn't even feel the cold
Sing for the Song, boy
Just like you did before all of the cocaine
And flashbulbs and bright painted ladies
Got ahold of your song
But you really don't make that much money
And you don't put on much of a show
And those Dewey-eyed darlings next
Week will be
Crying for somebody else doncha know
And the tune is becoming your burden
And the words all sound twisted and wrong
And the song that you sell
It don't taste quite as
Well as when you used to sing for the song
Sing for the Song, boy
Just like you did when you
Stood on that corner
And you didn't even feel the cold
Sing for the Song, boy
Just like you did before all of the cocaine
And flashbulbs and bright painted ladies
Got ahold of your song
Sing for the Song, boy
Just like you did when you
Stood on that corner
And you didn't even feel the cold
Sing for the Song, boy
Just like you did before all of the cocaine
And flashbulbs and bright painted ladies
Got ahold of your soul