What if I never have another idea for a song?
How will I know the muse is gone?
What if I keep on writing
Even though I got nothing left to say?
It's probably gonna happen someday
But god - what if it happened yesterday?

I don't know if I'm the person
For the job, but I'm rehearsin'
I'll work hard, but work can't substitute
For inspiration

Come out to the show
Bring your friends along
This is my most wonderfull song
Come out to the show
Smile and sing along
This is my most wonderfull song

I don't claim to be the smartest
Guy around, and I'm no artist
I'm not sure I know what art is for
Or how to spot it

Come out to the show...

I came out to the opening
And brought my friends as well
But when they asked me what it meant, I couldn't tell

I liked the older pictures
Much better than the new
The tiny people crowding Flatbush Avenue

But what about the slogans?
I didn't have a clue
What, if anything, these words were meant to do

I don't have a single vision
I'm cross-eyed with indecision
I just know I'm running out of time
For inspiration

Come out to the show...