You line them up
Look at your shoes
You hang names on your wall
Then you shoot them all
You fly around in planes
That bring you down
To meet me who loves you, like
Me crashing to the ground
Are you so lonely?
Donīt even know me
But youīd like to stone me
Mr Writer, why donīt you tell it like it is?
Why donīt you tell it like it really is?
Before you go on home
I used to treat you right
Give you my time
But when Iīd turn my back on you
Then you do what you do
Youīve just enough, in my own view
Education to perform
Iīd like to shoot you all
And then you go home
With you on your own
What do you really know?
Mr Writer, why donīt you tell it like it is?
Why donīt you tell it like it really is?
Before you go on home
And then you go home
With you on your own
What do you even know?
Mr Writer, why donīt you tell it like it is?
Why donīt you tell it like it really is?
Before you go on home
Mr Writer, why donīt you tell it like it is?
Why donīt you tell it like it always is?
Before you go on home
Mr Writer, why donīt you tell it like it really is?
Why donīt you tell it like it always is?
Before you go on home
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