(To himself) This is no life for a grow...

Slay It With Music

Chad Walker

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Text

(To himself)

This is no life for a grown man. Fast flings with great-grandmothers. Spending my last bucks on Ban De Soleil. No one takin' me serious. Still, there was someone, once, who treated me like more than just a plaything, more than just a pretty face. Oh, Marcy, have mercy on me...

(Recite lyric like a speech)

NO MOVIES WILL CAST ME,

THEY KNOW I CAN'T ACT.

MY BEST YEARS ARE PAST ME,

MY CAPS ARE ALL CRACKED...

MY MARCY HAD FAULTS BUT

HAD MONEY I LACK!

OH, I GOTTA GET HER BACK!

I CAN'T AFFORD DRINKIN',

I CAN'T AFFORD DRUGS;

MY ASSETS KEEP SHRINKIN',

(Straightening his hair:)

I'VE BEEN THROUGH THREE RUGS.

BEFORE I'M NO LONGER

THAT GOOD IN THE SACK,

I GOTTA GET MY MARCY BACK!

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