Selling Out in Style

So sing to me, let me be your harshest critic
Let me point out your mistakes
And tell you you're a fake
And let the chips fall where they may

In a perfect world there will be no one to judge you
Your lack of ink will be the thing that kills you
Follow the leader to the bank

Congratulate, yourself for fooling everyone
Now you tune your guitars to the sound of new cars
Can you hear it, i think i hear it, i hear it

So let me be the first one to speak in words you'll understand
You're not getting anywhere
You keep the kids believing in your fake musicianship
You're not getting anywhere

Turning the other cheek
Integrity is forgotten
As valid as last week
Watch you sinking to the bottom

It's no surprise that you don't hear
The roaring applause has disappeared
You've convinced youself
That the free shows and the sponsorships mean everything
To you that's wealth, you should be more concerned about the audience
They know you're faking it