I ain't no video king

I still have to sing for my supper each night

You stand on the benches

I play in the trenches beneath the big spotlights Lived in a suitcase for half of my years

I got strange little voices, live in my ears

Hall monster, mall monster, I can't be the old me no more Homemade music ain't on the radio

Homemade music, searchin' high and low

Homemade music, where did all the good songs go? Cookin' is a pleasure

Singin' is a treasure that most don't find

There ain't no harm in tellin'

I likes to eat my melon right on down to the rind I had a hippie girlfriend when I was a kid

She died and went to the suburbs, most of them did

Raisin' puppies, having yuppies, where did all the wild ones go? Homemade music ain't on the radio

Homemade music, jam it in, close the door

Homemade music, where did all the good songs go? First there were records, then cassettes and cd's

Managers and lawyers, then came the Japanese

But homemade music still making sense to me Homemade music is funky and nice

Homemade music skates on very thin ice

Homemade music is part of my philosophy Homemade music ain't on the radio

Homemade music, jam it in, close the door

Homemade music, where did all the good songs go? Homemade music, give me my homemade music

Homemade music, should be on the radio Don't dig that regular bunk

The Neville Brothers' got the funk

And homemade music should be on the radio