The Imitator

He's got leather boots and a cowboy hat
Big Pink House and a Caddilac
Shows up to work all dressed in black
Slingin' a Martin guitar

Still out looking for Maria
Says he'll know her when he sees her
Tonight he's singing crowd-pleasers
In the corner of the bar

That's the one they call the Imitator
You let your conscience be the indicator
Cause deep down you know the greatest entertainers are dead
So you do yourself a favor, call the Imitator instead

Out here in the valley
You rumble through the alley
You got a friend, he's a real pal
He can fix your car for free

And at the end of a long day of buffin' out scuffs
Couple bottles of beer and a couple puffs
Ain't no use in calling a man's bluff
If he does a damn good Bobby McGhee

That's when you call upon the Imitator
You let your conscience be the indicator
Cause deep down you know the greatest entertainers are dead
So you do yourself a favor, call the Imitator instead

It' alright, it's alright
Some people run from the spotlight
It's alright, it's alright
Some folks still fighting the good fight
Blasting old records at midnight
Strumming through their hits like it's the Isle of Wight
Callin' it quits cause it just don't sound right

Ain't that the story of the Imitator?
You let your conscience be the indicator
Cause deep down you know the greatest entertainers are dead
So you do yourself a favor, call the Imitator instead



Credits
Writer(s): Brett Fromson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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