Critics (Fifty Bucks)

Tired, broken, bruised Just a a little overwhelmed Trying to make it through Bit of help? Words will mean nothing Till their coming out of someone like you If I don't hate what I'm saying By the time I've kept playing them through I don't know why I would start this When I don't know where I'll finish And I read once Not everybody's an artist But everyone's a goddamn critic I'm tired, broken, bruised Took a couple hours and years Just to get here today And I'm humbled by the chance to play You never know who will hear But are you hearing yourself? You wanna live it for free You wanna feel what I felt I don't know why I would start this when I don't know where I'll finish not everybody's an artist But everyone's a goddamn critic I'm tired, broken, and bruised Is all that work worth this much? I'll have to take your word for it and take the fifty bucks Is all that work worth this much? I'll have to take your word for it and take the fifty bucks Give me the fifty bucks Give me the fifty bucks Am I worth enough? Am I worth your love?