Corporate Cash Cow

Well,
The Finger is back in the haus.
Some people on the site have expressed a certain amount of dismay with regards to the modern day music industry.
It would seem that the whole "Wizzard of Oz" smokeshow just isn't satisfying a lot of listeners.
In light of recent defections (Elton, MJ) and record low sales figures in the industry, I'd like to suggest that anybody who signs a deal today becomes a part of this "smokeshow".
In the words of J5 - You're either, "Part of the problem or part of the solution - what's you're contribution to life?" (some irony here).
This leaves an aspiring musician in quite a bit of a predicament...
What to do?
Well for the time being let's just pen some really sardonic lyrics and have a laugh.
Check it.

Corporate Cash Cow

Just another Corporate Cash Cow.
A product of power hungry parasites,
I just might have time for ya
If you weren’t too busy smiling for the camera.
Damn ya!

(Baby, baby.)

Ladies and Gentlemen welcome:
Britney Spears, Madonna, Aretha!
It’s all the same.
Products of the corporate game of money and fame.
It’s a shame really.
Their accomplishments are bought
And their lives are sought after by stupid people.
C’mon!
Who wants to be a slave to society?
No amount of money is worth my freedom!
I’m pretty sure I feel sorry for them.
But if you still want to buy a Mariah scapegoat,
And float on your dreamboat in a technicolour coat
then pass me by you big pile of dumbass!

Nickleback, Default, Theory of a Dead Man?
These motherfuckers make me ashamed to be Canadian!
Courageous Men?
Blazing a trail for other artists?
Yeah...
Right down the middle of the road.
I think the biggest part of the problem is that they can’t get the corporate cock out of their
mouths long enough to write decent lyrics!
Fuck..k..k *coughing*...
Talk about, “Living a Lie”.
I must be, “Wasting My Time” trying to think of new ideas.
Instead, I should be pasting old clichés together,
Sitting back, dropping a few beers and waiting for the dough to roll in.
Strolling down Bullshit Boulevard.
Trading my soul in for some radio play.
Way to go eh - Dallas, Chad and whoever?
Your financial endeavor ain’t substantial.
You’ll never matter!
(tick...tick...tick...)
14:59.
You hear that?
I think it’s time to take the dick out of your ass and move on to pasture.
Last year’s fad.
The end of the trend.
Strap on your depends and pull up your lazyboy.
George, Rob and Hamma are coming over to laugh at some old videos...

Eminim. (What?)
Slim Shady. (Who?)
Marshall Mathers. (Ahhh....)

Not that it matters,
You fat cat ball of hype.
The biggest perpetrator.
Lyrical Masterbator.
Corporate push-over.
(Shove over!)
What?
You can’t hear me?
It’d be a different story if I was a manager, producer or choreographer.
Then you’d be salivating like a whore after dinner at the whitehouse.
Step into MY house!
C’mon, I think that secretly you’re just like me.
The only difference is that you have the balls to say whatever Dr. Dre says is OK
Like slamming the gay community then trying to pay for immunity by hugging Elton John.
I guess one Corporate Cash Cow deserves another.
Listen brother.
I just thought you’d like to know who your father is.
His name is Weird Al.
It’s just like you feared all along pal.
But, Hey, Look on the bright side.
You might be able to slide onto his next parody project.
You could probably use some charity after the hype machine rejects your next album,
“Really It’s the Real Slim Shady”.
The one that paid off his mother and wife to stay quiet
While he played out this charade and made out that both were suing him.
(Meanwhile back at the ranch...)
Debbie, Halie, Kim and Marshall are checking their bank accounts online to find that
societies sick obsession with gossip is making them rich.
No-one minds that it’s all just a joke!
Eminem, you’re a catalyst for the downfall of human kind.
(Time for another toke.)

Copyright: i220, 2002.

Posted by Mattay at December 18, 2002 09:04 AM