Pay no heed to him, my dear He knows not right from wrong He ain't a good and righteous man He's the singer of the song Though he'll philosophize and prophesize And weave his poetry Take a look into his eyes And his empty vanity But the singer of the song cares little For your troubled lives He does his set and gets his pay And goes home to his wife He's not the one you thought he was His legend is a lie He used to be famous But you can't remember why Though he sings of things familiar Things you feel and know He ain't never been through it It's just a part of the show But the singer of the song feels nothing As you throw your eggs and knives Does his gig and gets his pay And gets on with his life He delivers all his words just like They're whispered just to you But every secret he reveals You already knew He'll sell you the illusion That he's pouring out his soul But when opens up his mouth It's just one more empty hole But the singer of the song cares little For your ordinary lives He does his gig and gets his pay And goes home with your wife The posters say that on his day He's the greatest show on earth If you're entertained by tragedy You'll get your money's worth