Gravy Train

Selling out, if you ask any youngster, is supposed to be an ignominy, but why? The very artists that we so easily accuse of having "sold out their beliefs" would not have reached us in the first place if they weren't part of the commercial channels. Which then makes one wonder if they were ever true to the cause in the first place. An article on this will follow at a later date, but for now, some half-baked lyrical poetry:

Psst, Ms. Anthem! I'm talkin' to you,
You don't know what he's gonna do.
He's selling you down at Planet M,
He's whoring you and he's to blame.

Didn't I tell you not to talk to strangers?
Haven't I warned you of the dangers?
Why're you hearing what he's telling you?
I created you; what did he do?

You think he cares about any part of you?
Or what you'll cause the damn blessed to do?
You're his showpiece; he's the front-page story,
You're the sunshine; he basks in your glory.

I mean what I make, every word that I sing,
it's awareness not revolution that I try to bring,
How'll they hear you if it ain't through me?
How'll they know me if I don't cut me a deal?

He's just in it for the name and the fame,
his material thirst puts the causes to shame,
he could've walked around, guitar in hand,
a song on his lips, nights of head in the sand.

How would we then be known in the public domain?
All my efforts would've gone right down the drain.
So I chewed on that cigar; sipped some champagne,
stepped aboard and took a ride on the gravy train.

Now he'll talk of Dylan and other icons of the past,
well Lennon maybe a hero but never working class,
Mick Jagger no one buys was a street fighting man,
and the Gallaghers scripted their masterplan,

He could've stayed true,
if he really wanted to...

Well, me and you,
we wouldn't have got our rightful dues,
if I did what he wanted me to,
and stayed pure like a mule...

Happy new year Ms. Anthem I rest my case.