You saw the sign on a pick-up truck. And bought a guitar with a borrowed buck. And you dig it and you dig it. They liked your song they were hot for you. You got the job there was work to do. And you dig it and you dig it. But waiting there was someone waiting for you. Claiming a piece of everything that you do. It seems I've heard your story all before. Someone's standing knocking at your door. Your early morning wake up call. The bags are packed and in the hall. The managers ran off with all the money that you made. You get on stage nearly every night. You work around till you get it right. And you dig it and you dig it. And then you sign for a record deal. And off you go on the music wheel. And you dig it and you dig it. But waiting there was someone waiting for you. Claiming a piece of everything that you do. It seems I've heard your story all before. Someone's standing knocking at your door. Your early morning wake up call. The bags are packed and in the hall. The managers ran off with all the money that you made. You made the charts and all the hangers on were hanging on. Flashing knives behind your back. Living in your money sack. And you were thinking you got it made. You do the tours and the interviews. You meet the press and you're in the news. And you dig it and you dig it. You hear your song on the radio. You see your face on the TV shows. And you dig it and you dig it. But waiting there was someone waiting for you. Claiming a piece of everything that you do. It seems I've heard your story all before. Someone's standing knocking at your door. Your record isn't selling well. The tickets to your shows don't sell. You look around and suddenly. You find that you've got leprosy. The taxman's coming after you. Your lawyer and your girlfriend too. And the managers ran off with all the money that you made