Sing For The Song - Tom Paxton, Bob Gibson, Anne Hills

Sometimes you sing for the money

Sometimes you sing for the show Sometimes you sing for those dewey eyed

darlings who still makes em cry doncha now

One time you sang for the glory

But the glory didn’t last very long

Through the haze of the stage you look back to the days

When you used to sing for the song

Sing for the Song, boy

Just like you did when you stood on that corner, and you didn’t even feel the

cold

Sing for the Song, boy

Just like you did before all of the cocaine

And flashbulbs and bright painted ladies got ahold of your song

But you really don’t make that much money

And you don’t put on much of a show

And those Dewey-eyed darlings next week will be crying for somebody else doncha

know

And the tune is becoming your burden

And the words all sound twisted and wrong

And the song that you sell it don’t taste quite as well as when you used to

sing for the song

Sing for the Song, boy

Just like you did when you stood on that corner, and you didn’t even feel the

cold

Sing for the Song, boy

Just like you did before all of the cocaine

And flashbulbs and bright painted ladies got ahold of your song

Sing for the Song, boy

Just like you did when you stood on that corner, and you didn’t even feel the

cold

Sing for the Song, boy

Just like you did before all of the cocaine

And flashbulbs and bright painted ladies got ahold of your soul