Mister Magazine

Who hocks the headlines who sets the style

Behind the deadlines behind the smile

He's the man digging dirt trying to keep himself clean

He's the pimp he's the prostitute mister magazine

Where someone suffers he's always there

To make it rougher to foul the air

He's perfected the art of the vicious and mean

Just a day at the office for mister magazine

Conscience has he any (not much)

Ideals no not many

Only what a penny buys

Remorse he can't feel it

His source won't reveal it

Of course it's the public's right to buy it

I'll keep on praying there'll come a day

I hear them saying you've gone away

And we won't shed a tear as you're leaving the scene

It's a pleasure not knowing you mister magazine mister magazine

Mister magazine

Mister magazine

Mister magazine

Mister magazine

Mister magazine