It’s GrizzlyJones
Cash for the Camera
[Intro]
[A haunting, echoing vocal chant over a heavy, ticking clock beat]
(I want my easy street... I want my easy street...)
[Suddenly, a massive, distorted acoustic guitar riff kicks in with a heavy boot-stomp]
[Verse 1]
[Punchy, rhythmic folk-rap delivery]
Look at that kid on the movie screen.
Flashing his grin in a magazine, He’s wearing a coat that costs my rent,
And he don't even know where the money went.
He’s typing a comment,
he’s making a post,
While I’m working the line from coast to coast.
He’s sipping champagne on a private jet,
And he ain't dropped a single bead of sweat.
[Pre-Chorus]
We move the concrete, we lay the pipe.
While they live a life of digital hype.
Yeah, they get the glory and we get the grime.
Just trying to make it to closing time.
[Chorus]
That’s cash for the camera (hey!)
And checks for a smile (yodel-ay)
They’re making a million,
By running a mile.
Get your money for free (hey!)
While we’re breaking our backs.
Yeah, we pay the toll,
While they clear the tracks.
[Verse 2]
[Rhythm gets heavier, fiddle mimics a grinding machine]
Now look at her there with the golden hai,
rSelling a dream out of thin blue air.
She’s holding a bottle of magic juice,
While I’m trying to get this engine loose.
They don't know the weight of a heavy wrench,
Or the freezing mud in a drainage trench.
They click a button and the bank account grows,
That’s just the way that the gravy flows…
[Bridge]
[Tempo holds, but changes to a frantic Celtic Funk feel, blistering fiddle solo over a thumping bassline]
We got the callouses!
We got the scars!
They got the mansions and luxury cars!
They talk about hustle,
they talk about grind,
But they leave the working man way behind!
Yeah, let the cameras roll!
[Verse 3]
The billboard is up and it's shining bright.
Blocking the sun in the middle of light,
But when the power goes down and the screens go dead.
They’ll need a real man to earn the bread.
So let 'em keep posing, let 'em keep playin'
'Cause we all know what the hammer is sayin'
[Final Chorus]
That’s cash for the camera (hey!)
And checks for a smile
(yodel-ay)
They’re making a million,
By running a mile.
Get your money for free (hey!)
While we’re breaking our backs.
Yeah, we pay the toll,
While they clear the tracks
[Outro]
[Heavy, relentless acoustic strumming, backing vocals chanting "WORK! WORK!" as the fiddle hits a wild peak]
Yeah, money for nothing.
Keep on smiling for the lens, kid.
(Sarcastic, soaring yodel fadeout) Yo-la-hee-ti-cash-oh-la-hee...Real callouses.Fake gold.
[One massive final drum hit and guitar feedback]
[End]