You Can Be A Street Musician! by reggie miles

reggie's Comments:  Here's a satirical little dittie that plays off of some of the common misconceptions about street musicians and their art form. It came to mind after some recent discussions I've been having about the subject at the Mudcat and elsewhere.


You can be a street musician!
It doesn't take a lot of ambition.
It don't take talent or education.
And it beats workin' at a fillin' station.

(Or for some theivin', lyin' corporation like Enron, or, I could go on, but what's the use.)

So come on down and don't be shy.
Sing songs to folks as they walk by.
Strum and rant and stomp your feet,
Express yourself out on the street.

(It's called freedom of expression. It's not guaranteed via the ever- increasing constant tuition as some would have you believe. It is promised to every American by the first amendment of the Constitution.)

You can sing requests all day long.
It don't matter if the words are wrong.
Pour your heart out or just play covers.
Sing the blues about your lost lovers.

(Oh where oh where has my little love gone?)

If you want, you can get political,
Just as long as you're not too critical.
Sing silly songs to make folks laugh.
Don't have to cut your hair or take a bath.

[Sniff, sniff] (Smells like somethin' died. I hope it's not my song.)

You can arise from bed at the crack of noon.
Spend an hour or so just to get in tune.
Swallow a steamin' black pot o' jo,
To get yourself up before the show.

(No, I would not like cream or sugar with that. On second thought, better make mine a root-beer float.)

Then look around for a likely location,
To begin your musical vocation.
At an outdoor market or a subway station,
Or where ever folks need edification.

(Right here looks like a good spot.)

Divorce yourself from the ol' rat race,
And open up your guitar case.
You're sure to find somebody who,
Will be happy to donate a buck or two.

(A quarter, a dime or a nickel 'll do. How about a penny?)

You can make a million dollars a year,
If you start out with two million's what I hear.
It's easy to do, take it from me,
It's more fun than playin' the lottery.

(And all the money goes to the sick, the tired and the hungry, and you're lookin' at 'im. I am sick and tired of bein' hungry.)

You can be your own boss and employee too,
With nobody to tell you what to do.
Record and sell your own CD,
Start your own recording company.

(I think I'll call it "Starvin' For Your Attention Productions".)

So if you're lookin' for a brand new job,
And you don't want to beg or steal or rob,
Take my advice, here's what to do,
Become a street musician too!

(But it'll cost ya. I hear their thinkin' of raisin' the street musician permit fee from $15 to $50. Looks like I gotta git a job just to support my street music performances.)

But if you worry about making money,
Better find yourself a rich little honey.
Then you can just sit around and play,
Your guitar all the live long day.

(Huh? What's that honey? You want me to get a what?! How about I become a street musician? Yep, that's what I thought you'd say. How dare she use them four letter words around me, like w-o-r-k and a j-o-b!)

Joe street performer

P.S., You can lose a lot of weight too.

You can be weight watchers and watch me lose,
Hundreds of pounds while singin' the blues