Critics (Fifty Bucks)

Tired, broken, bruised
Just a a little overwhelmed
Trying to make it through
Bit of help?

Words will mean nothing
Till their coming out of someone like you
If I don't hate what I'm saying
By the time I've kept playing them through
I don't know why I would start this
When I don't know where I'll finish

And I read once
Not everybody's an artist
But everyone's a goddamn critic
I'm tired, broken, bruised
Took a couple hours and years
Just to get here today
And I'm humbled by the chance to play
You never know who will hear
But are you hearing yourself?

You wanna live it for free
You wanna feel what I felt
I don't know why I would start this when
I don't know where I'll finish not everybody's an artist
But everyone's a goddamn critic I'm tired, broken, and bruised

Is all that work worth this much?
I'll have to take your word for it and take the fifty bucks
Is all that work worth this much?
I'll have to take your word for it and take the fifty bucks
Give me the fifty bucks
Give me the fifty bucks
Am I worth enough?
Am I worth your love?



Credits
Writer(s): Sean Sroka
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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