Get your greasy hands off the guitar,
Get your slimy seat off the drums,
Go and take a chair in the corner,
And wait until your time comes.
Maybe you're a wheel in your hometown,
Maybe you're the best on the block,
But by the time you make it in new york,
Your axe will be in hock.
Gettin' in the door will cost a fin
Minimum is another three
It takes a year of heavy spending
Before they let you in free.
You may dress like everybody
But there the similarity ends
You need more than a uniform to be
In our little circle of friends.
Maybe I could give you advice
But what can I say to you?
Some people get it together
And some people never do.
Just try and get your foot in the door
And maybe, with luck, you may
Also be in a position to look
Down your nose on somebody someday.