You line em' up, pick out your shoes
You hang names on your wall
Then you shoot them all

You fly around in planes that bring you down
To meet me, who loves you
Like me, crashing to the ground

Are you so lonely?
You don't even know me
But you'd like to stone me

Mr. Writer
Why don't you tell it like it is?
Why don't you tell it like it really is
Before you go on home?

I used to treat you right, give you my time
But when I turn my back on you
Then you do what you do

You've just enough, in my own view
Education to perform
I'd like to shoot you all

And then you go home
With you, on your own
What do you really know?

Mr. Writer
Why don't you tell it like it is?
Why don't you tell it like it really is
Before you go on home?

And then you go home
With you, on your own
What do you even know?

Mr. Writer
Why don't you tell it like it really is?
Why don't you tell it like it always is
Before you go on home?

Mr. Writer
Why don't you tell it like it really is?
Why don't you tell it like it always is
Before you go on home?