One Hit Tune
Artist Oblivion
Sell your soul for monetary reasons
Even crossed over
Your nickname is Treason
Forgot the revolution
To create real music
Express our culture
Through creative influence
What happened to real soul-felt music
Stolid, stale because
It’s recycled, sampled sewage
Held your contract in your palm
As higher-ups forced a pen
Nervous shaking your arms
Scribbled on the dotted line
Without reading the fine lines
PR create image
As you scrimmage
To climb the charts
Fans multiply
Money starts to divide
Waving your hand side to side
With piranhas biting your check
On the stage’s sideline
Tossing empty promises
Of heavy rotation
Not conscious
Of futuristic negotiations
Forgotten lyrics to songs
Fan lose memory
Of who you are
No top chart
Billboard hits
Marital divorce
Have cash split
Promiscuity regrets
Manager’s profit from your harvest
Controlled you like a garden tool
Now the crops have grown
There’s no need of you
Played Pinocchio
There’s no Gepetto
Lost memories like vinyl
The record skips
And what follows
Oblivion consumes
Now only known
As a ‘one hit tune’
