From the album POSTMODERN MAN

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Lyrics

Johnny’s on the jukebox
he’s hometown hero, goldilocks
You can’t believe the man you see’s
the boy you used to know

A painter, a poet, a plastic preened profit
who sacrificed his soul to the salt and sold tickets

Wit pose-able arms and karate chop grip
not quite quick enough to catch the slip
the money ‘neath the table

The Devil, he smiles as he says all the while
he don’t want too much up front
just takes his toll from the back end.

The take what they can from you
take what they can from you
take what they can while they can, while they can

Dance for them, prance
sell your shirt, shoes, and pants for them
all upon the pages of a magazine

Give your best country smile
to some kid who can’t afford it
and you tell him to get with it
or he’ll be alone forever.

You can’t fight the part of you breaking the heart
of that lonely little leper
that fantastic freak of nature

Blind your eyes with the spotlight
melt your thoughts with the music
Don’t you think about that creature
“there but for the grace of God …”

No, you take what you can from them
take what you can from them
take what you can while you can, while you can

Oh, take what you can from them
take what you can from them
take what you can while you can

Your age is a number, your race is a color
your faith is a crutch from your father and your mother

But you don’t have the courage to give yourself the credit
you must owe it all to someone,
If not God, then to your agent.

Oh, they take what they can from you
take what they can from you
take what they can while they can, while they can

So take what you can from them
take what you can from them
take what you can while you can

Clint Alphin
© 2015