| I'm Nearly Famous |
| The record man said, Don't let it go to your head, I'm gonna make you a star You got it, use it, But don't abuse it, Gave me money from an old fruit jar To exercise my delight, I went out that night, And shook the town the way I know how So Mama, please don't worry about me, I'm nearly famous, now Six months later, I'm a cool operator, And I know my way around The record man sighed, He really tried, But he couldn't get it off the ground But that don't bother me now, 'Cause I got a friend, Who's got a friend, who really knows how So Mama, please don't worry about me, I'm nearly famous, now Still hangin' on, Still hangin' on I met this real, live walkin', Self styled, self assured, Slow talking bore I thought I'd play him along, Play him a song, To keep the doom dust away from my door But I didn't do, What he wanted me to, But it didn't seem to matter somehow So Mama, please don't worry about me, I'm nearly famous, now Still hangin' on, Still hangin' on Hang on Six months later, I'm a part time waiter, But that didn't last long I stretched and squeezed, At words I'd never heard, To write a song And when it finally came, It sounded the same, As a tune I'd heard before somehow So Mama, please don't worry about me, I'm nearly famous, now Still hangin' on, Still hangin' on Ah, don't worry about me, mama Next week I'm gonna make the play list, Ah, hangin on', hangin' on, Still hangin' on |