Caravelle

well, some friends of ours were doing mighty fine had a band and a van and a credit line playing clubs and dives across the USA they had dressing rooms stocked with beer manuel suits and vintage gear while bands like us had to pay to play it got harder and harder to wish them well I admit that we were jealous as hell we were greener than a twenty dollar bill their star kept climbing higher and higher we dreamt their van would catch on fire but they sold more records than we ever will

with our faces pressed against the window pane like beggars, just a band without a name it ain’t fair, it ain’t right but I guess that’s just life so where’s our fifteen minutes of fame?

raise a glass to the rest of us riding down the road in a minibus the warm-up act you watch for free working day jobs in a factory I ain’t gonna cry cause no one’s ever gonna hear I’m just gonna try to give myself another year

those pals of ours bought homes and cars played stadiums instead of bars went to their gigs in separate limousines lawsuits pending all the time power plays and corporate crime you can ask the Eagles, they know what I mean

now they’re living in their mansions all alone got their lawyers with them on the telephone life is funny, life is mean call it living the dream baby love me like a rock when I get home

well, they got together for a string of shows 40 cities and the money flowed and they only had to smile for an hour but backstage it was pretty grim from vegan chili to heroin just a bunch of spoiled kids with too much power

and I wonder if they reminisce and think about those gigs they played for tips and chicks and drinks life was good in those days until money took the place of the reason we all do anything