I like your song, here’s a contract,
Perform, play, sing and serenade,
You want money?Sell some discs,
That my corporation made.

A top 40 single, well done,
Your next must be high,
You are the next big thing,
Don’t let your image die.

What’s this?No sale,
Obviously you cannot play,
Get out of my office you failures,
Sell albums then I’ll pay.

I count the cash in my hand,
And I laugh at the wealth line,
All these royalties that I have taken,
But if you starve, that is just fine!

I told you before, sell something,
You are close to breach of contract,
I could dismiss you all,
Watch you become a nothing act.

You rush to the studio and release a new song,
But your last came only two months ago,
What foolishness is this?
Rushing out ****music to go.

The contract expires at your tenth disc,
You released ****to escape early,
All this crap you have left me with,
Will not sell dearly.

Yes you may laugh you fools,
Survive on your own two feet,
But when you come crawling back,
An evil grin shall you meet.

You shout about the music,
But this is how it is,
We are not merely artists,
This is a multi-million business.

You have to sell to win,
You have to sell to survive,
You have to sell to succeed,
You must sell to stay alive.

This is what we are,
Businessman and money,
So stop whining,
Life is not about bread and honey.

I give you 5%, what’s your problem?
You merely play and record,
I have to mix and publish,
While you perform to that fan horde.

I even let you keep those profits,
I take nothing from the tour,
So stop complaining,
This is how it is forevermore