Truth About John

He lays a sheet if white paper

On a gravy stained table

He wipes the palms of his hands on his jeans.

He turns "Imagine" up loud

He knows that face and that cloud

And he don't stop counting

While he's spilling the beans.

Cos now he's going to tell us all

The truth about John

Tho' he needs a little help

To speed up the prose.

He was taken on trust

But that wasn't enough

You lose some friends this way

But that's how it goes.

Here she comes to trail the cameras

In her wake, and sable

She wears the scent that only comes with success.

She says it was love

But she wasn't above

Selling her secrets

To the national press.

And now she's going to tell us all

The truth about John

Tho' she needs a little help

To speed up the prose.

He counted on you

And who cares if it's true?

You're as bad as the man

Who landed the blows.

And they're all going to tell us now

The truth about John

Again and again on the interview shows.

And if the truth isn't nice

Well that just adds to the price

Oh, make sure those wounds never close.

Get your cut, you cut-price writer

Get your cut in this cut-throat game

The more the cut, the more he grab, yeah

He's just a someone out to stab you.