Verse 1:

In pointy boots and shirts so bright,

A geezer dressed to cause a fright.

Pretending skills he does not know,

Rewatching videos, ages ago.

No effort made, his skills are weak,

He turns away from what he can’t seek.

A facade, a poser, a fraud,

A mountain’s king, but just a nod.

Verse 2:

Torn jeans, long hair, a dyed-old geezer,

Bragging ‘bout the past, a creepy teaser.

Never practiced, skills so low,

His gaze avoids those who truly know.

He gossips, spiteful, mean, and sly,

Yet his own playing’s a big fat lie.

Chorus 1:

A phony musician, that’s all you’ll be,

A wannabe rocker, you’ll never see.

Your pride so high, your skills so small,

Your words are empty, that’s all.

A phony musician, that’s all you’ll be,

A wannabe rocker, you’ll never see.

Your spiteful words, your nasty ways,

You’ll always be a fraud in many ways.

Chorus 2:

A phony musician, till the very end,

A phony musician, my friend.