JOE: (somewhat exhausted)
These executives have plooked the fuck out of me
And there's still a long time to go before I've
Paid my debt to society
And all I ever really wanted to do was
Play the guitar 'n bend the string like
I've got it
I'll be sullen and withdrawn
I'll dwindle off into the twilight realm
Of my own secret thoughts
I'll lay on my back here 'til dawn
In a semi-catatonic state
And dream of guitar notes
That would irritate
An executive kinda guy...
And sure enough JOE dreams up a few of those guitar notes
that every executive despises...those low ones...every exec
knows it's only the records with the high squeally ones that
get to be hits (except for Duane Eddy)...
Well, I guess that one did the trick
If they only coulda heard it
Half-a-dozen of em woulda strangled
While they was suckin on each others' dick
But that was just a bunch of imaginary
Notes I played
Just a little extra somethin'
To keep me goin from day to day
I'll be gettin outta here pretty soon
Then I won't have to live
In this ugly fuckin room
Can't wait to see
I can't wait to see what it's like
On the outside now...
etc., etc., etc.
And JOE just lays there, dreaming imaginary guitar notes for years
on end, until finally they let him out...