Lyrics
I ain’t no video king
I still have to sing
For my supper each night
You stand on the benches
I play in the trenches
Beneath the big spotlights
Lived in a suitcase for half of my years
I got strange little voices live in my ears
Hall monster, mall monster
I can’t be the old me no more
Homemade music ain’t on the radio
Homemade music searchin’ high and low
Homemade music where did all the good songs go
Cookin’ is a pleasure
Singin’ is a treasure
That most don’t find
There ain’t no harm in tellin’
I like to eat my melon right
Down to the rind
I had a hippy girlfriend when I was a kid
She died and went to the suburbs most of them did
Raising puppies having yuppies
Where did all the wild ones go
Homemade music ain’t on the radio
Homemade music jam it in and close the door
Homemade music where did all the good songs go
Instrumental
First there were records, then cassettes and CD’s
Managers, lawyers, then came the Japanese
But homemade music still makes sense to me
Homemade music is funky and nice
Homemade music sits on very thin ice
But homemade music is part of my philosophy
Homemade music ain’t on the radio
Homemade music searchin’ high and how
Homemade music where did all the good songs go
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