Larry John McNally - Folksinger Return to Folksinger Album Page


Step up to the microphone
Check one two, one two
There’s a sea of faces
Saying, “We never even heard of you!”
Half traveling salesman, half whore
After 57 cities nothin’ matters anymore
Driving all night through rain and snow
Sound check, kill time, 40 minute show
Hard on for the waitress
The locals wanna kill ya’
All my trials, Lord
I’m a folksinger
Yeah, a folksinger

Up here alone with my beat up guitar
Staring down at my shoes
The anti-star
Just a working class nothin’ from a shithole town
Every circus needs a clown
Am I on my way up or on the way down
Can I go home now
Here’s to the guy in the front row who gave me the finger
I should let it roll off me but it lingers
What ever happened to Debra Winger
I hope she didn’t marry a folksinger

I live for the nights when magic takes over the room
And there’s no longer a wall
Between me and you
I’m no longer just a carnival barker
Half Colonel Parker
Getting by on scratch, man, pass the hat
Hey, does it have to cost me the shirt off my back
To be a folksinger
Yeah, a folksinger
Hootenanny tonight, folksinger