Mr. Writer

Mr. Writer
Stereophonics


You line them up
Look at your shoes
You hang names on your wall
Then you shoot them all

You fly around in planes
To bring me down
To meet me who loves you
Like me crushing to the ground
Are you so lonely?
You don't even know me
But you'd like to stone me

Mr. Writer, why don't you tell it like it is?
Why don't you tell it like it really is?
Before you go on home

I used to treat you right, give you my time
But when I turn my back on you
Then you do what you do
You've just enough, in my own view, education to perform
I'd like to shoot you all
And then you go home
With you on your own
What do you really know?

Mr. Writer, why don't you tell it like it is?
Why don't you tell it like it really is?
Before you go on home

And then you go home
With you on your own
What do you even know?

Mr. Writer, why don't you tell it like it is?
Why don't you tell it like it really is?
Before you go on home

Mr. Writer, why don't you tell it like it really is?
Why don't you tell it like it always is?
Before you go on home

Mr. Writer, why don't you tell it like it really is?
Why don't you tell it like it always is?
Before you go on home