Jonesy - Critique (With Exceptions) lyrics

He sits at home, he's all alone The flame of youth gone He tried, he failed, he couldn't do What you've done No sense of humour, forcing a smile Never a good word to make life worthwhile He digs the trench, his poison pen Writes off the music He's come to bury you with words That show he means it No sense of humour, forcing a smile State judge and jury, fixing your trial Trade paper writers, T.V. blind Ice-cold reviewing Maybe the truth is that they don't know What you're doing No sense of humour, forcing a smile No way of feeling what's on their minds The music's stopped, the cartridge lifted From his customer His scrapbook bulging Full of previous encounters No sense of humour, forcing a smile No sense of humour