Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
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
(Chorus)
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
(Chorus)
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
(Chorus)
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