I ain’t writing no more songs for you, for you
Drag up the past, make us both feel bad, what a thing to do
It doesn’t pay, it doesn’t pay, down on the streets of this grey-town day
no way, does it pay, but I do it anyway

I ain’t singin’ no more songs with you, with you
Construct your own myth, whatever it is, fantasy or true
It doesn’t pay, it doesn’t pay, it’s all about you anyway
no way, does it pay, but I do it anyway

I got a black book full of half-written lines
I’ll send one out to you sometime
You can lay me to waste with just one word
but I got writer’s block…in case you hadn’t heard

I ain’t singin’ no more songs for me, for me
burn my guitars and spit on the bars, just wait and see
it doesn’t pay, it doesn’t pay, working nine to five everyday
no way, does it pay, but I do it anyway