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i Apr 2014
you turn on the radio,
but it doesn't make
any sound.
                         maybe it's broken,
                                                                and it needs to be fixed and repaired.
Justin Phipps Apr 2014
There are those songs,
the ones
that you hear
on the radio
or on a friend's
music player.
That do something
to you.
You feel a bit different
while you listen.
You may not be sure
what is happening,
but it is,
and by the end
you've changed.
You don't hear it much
My music, my muse
My soul was taken away
That's something big to lose

Contracts signed and sealed
Delivered...not to me
Money never came my way
Not a penny did I see

Follow the music and you will find
Musicians like me,
We all went and signed
Contracts worth nothing
Not to us, not a cent
Follow the money
And see where it went

We poured our emotions
Our hearts and our souls
We gave them our music
Which they all then stole

Producers, execs
all down the line
All made the money
On songs that were mine

I heard all the rumours
But, they must be wrong
Then I wrote and signed off
On another hit song

Follow the music and you will find
Musicians like me,
We all went and signed
Contracts worth nothing
Not to us, not a cent
Follow the money
And see where it went



I was not famous
But, there must be some sales
Just follow the money
From the bargain bin pails

Somebody, somewhere
Was raking it in
As companies folded
In the business of tin

Houses of cards
Fold and collapse on the floor
But, the money went somewhere
'Cause I'm still in the stores

Follow the music and you will find
Musicians like me,
We all went and signed
Contracts worth nothing
Not to us, not a cent
Follow the money
And see where it went


Somebody made out
Like a bandit with me
My albums still selling
From around sixty three

Just follow the money
And see where it goes
Into some execs houses
And some dj's nose

I'm too old to go
And do a oldies rock show
I'm always invited
But, I never will go

My voice is all raspy
And one thing's still wrong
I get paid for the singing
But, I don't own the song

I know that I made it
But I hate the sound
Of my music creations
That I sold by the pound

Every time that they surface
On late night FM
I know somebody else
Made cash off of them

Just follow the money
And then you will see
The thousands of others
Who were ripped off like me
For Sixto Rodriguez, Pete Ham, and all the other singer, songwriters who were taken advantage of by unscrupulous record companies and execs.

— The End —