It's all smoke, there's motherto son by langston hughes marketing

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It's all smoke, there's no more fire Only desire For you, marketing whoever you are For you, whoever marketing you are You say my time here has been some sort of joke That I've been messing around Some sort of incubating period For when I really come around I'm cracking up And you have no idea No idea how it feels to be on your own In your own home with the fucking phone And the mother of gloom In your bedroom Standing over your head With her hand in your head With her hand in your marketing head I will not pretend I will not put on a smile I will not say I'm all right for you When all I wanted was to be good To do everything in truth To do everything in truth Oh I wish I wish I wish I was born a man So I could learn how to stand up for myself Like those guys with guitars I've been watching in bars Who've been stamping their feet to a different beat To a different beat To a different beat I will not pretend I will not put on a smile I will not say I'm all right for you When all I wanted was to be good To do everything in truth To do everything in truth You bloody mother fucking asshole Oh you bloody mother fucking asshole Oh you
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