(Bob Gibson)
Won't you sing me a new song, one I ain't heard before
Because your 'poor boy on the road' song is becoming such a bore
If it's so lonely at the top what're you up there for
Won't you sing me some new song I ain't heard before
Chorus:
If the weight's too great to carry please put down the load
I wish you'd quit your bitchin' 'bout yer bein' on the road
I wish you'd quit your bitchin' 'bout yer bein' on the road
I'm sure you exaggerate these terrible tales you told
I really don't want to hear another tale of woe
Because I've travelled that highway a few miles of my own
You say you came through rain and snow you've never ever missed a show
Tell me about the rigours and the mortars on the road
Don't you try to some poor guy who's stuck in old Glasgow
Maybe he can't understand if he's got no place to go
You come here in your private jet to a waiting limousine
The chauffeur holds the door for you like you're some king or queen
Then he whisks you down the boulevard to the best hotel in town
Where the mayor and the councillors can't wait to show you round
You've got an interview with 'Rolling Stone' you've got some heavy shit to say
Then it's time for you to go and eat down at the 'Chez Gourmet'
Where the manager picks up the cheque then it's time for you to go and play
Music for two hours for five thousand pounds a show
Final chorus
With ladies for your pleasure and cocaine for your nose
It's hard to be a music man, it's hell upon the road
Repeat 1