Man with a Microphone

(Sydney Carter)



As I went out one morning, I was singing a country song.

I met a man with a microphone, and Oh he did me wrong.

He led me up a grassy bank, and whipping out a tape,

He took my country ditty down before I could escape.



cho: With a whack for Peter and Paul and Mary

And burly old ivy, too.



To Tin Pan Alley he took my song and there he happened to meet

A publisher who cleaned it up and gave the tune a beat;

And now it's on the Hoot Parade, and now they pay a fee

To the false young man with a microphone, and nobody thinks of me.



cho:



I'll sell my rod, I'll sell my reel, I'll buy a steel guitar,

I'll take a ticket to London town, and in a coffee bar

I'll sing until my name is known, and when I'm on TV

I'll tell the world of the false young man, and what he did to me.



cho:



So all you pretty country girls that want to sport and play

Be careful of your copyright, that's all they want today.

And never trust a rovin' man, whoever he may be,

If his hand is on the microphone, and not upon your knee.



@folk @parody @music

Copyright Stainer & Bell, Ltd.

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