Showtime   Hang a guitar on my shoulder   Check the vacant drooling faces round the room   Another heartbreak battle   And I'm only getting older   Jesus help me when I say I'll give it all up pretty soon   Daytime   Time to fight the morning's headache   Gulp an aspirin bang together one more song   Inspiration cauterised   By years of useeless heartache   Every shallow nights reaction sounding twisted up and wrong      These last years   Years gone down to the showtime      Showtime   Try to catch the spark   That got me hooked so many years ago and died   Second-rate musicians   Feeding infantile illusions   Reading music magazines to keep the habit satisfied   Pitching   To some demographic average   What the hell he's staying home for, I don't see him here tonight   Thirteen years and over   Tuned to radio between the hours   Of six and seven-thirty, AM programmer's delight      These last years   Years gone down to the showtime      I never knew it could be   So misleading   Waiting for the final song to end   In this dirty nightclub   All the souls are bleeding   Reaching for the big decision   Disco floor or television   Time and time again   You hear the so-called friends   The smug de-facto critics in their movie backdrop cities   Sneering sitdown and listen   Life's a lonely escalator   It's a fool who doesn't know he has to leap off at the end   Well they were never at the guesthouse   With the ghost of Jimmy Rodgers   Watching Townsville sugar sunsets back in 1959   And they'll all be gone when the end is come   And I'm kneeling in the backroom   Crying Lord I'm just a trouper, let me play it one more time