Criteria Killed the Creative

Free advice, how nice of you
To indulge me in your opinion
You entice and delight me
With something you read about some politician
You think I'm impressed by your exposition

Every chord that I play in this song
You could name it
All of the rhymes that I happened to rhyme
You'd explain it
As for the state of my voice
You'd probably rate it
But you couldn't tell me just what it feels like to play it

Thirteen years of elite education
And all that you learned was how to regurgitate information
You used to do sketches in the back
Of your economics book at the station
Now criteria's killed the joy of creation

It's not your fault there's a flaw in the system
But it's your fault you didn't resist them

And every chord that you play in this song
You could name it
All of the rhymes that i happened to rhyme
You'd explain it
As for the state of my voice
You'd probably rate it
But you couldn't tell me just what it feels like to play it
You couldn't tell me just what it feels like to play it
You couldn't tell me just what it feels like to play it



Credits
Writer(s): Tilly Vickers-willis
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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