Bobby Weidman - Foot in the Door

A little voice inside my head
Keeps tellin me I’m a whore
I try to shut it up, I try but it ain’t enough
I just can’t seem to get a foot in the door
That door keeps on hittin me on the ass
People keep givin me advice when I don’t ask
There’s light at the end of the road, at least that’s what I’m told
But I’ll probably just go back to work like my dad
I just can’t seem to get a foot in the door
I just can’t seem to get a foot in the door
It all goes down the drain like yesterday’s coffee that I pour
I just can’t seem to get a foot in the door
They say son, you gotta play the standards, do you know wonder wheel or wagon wall
Don’t get paid in this town if you can’t pander
Oh but the truth is that I’d rather put a bullet in my skull
So I think I’ll just take my chances
I could find a little lady to nag me all day long
And if she seems like marrying material
You could consider it done, you could count me in, son
And down my days until my burial
I just can’t seem to get a foot in the door
I just can’t seem to get a foot in the door
I try and I try, and then I try some more
But I just can’t seem to get a foot in the door
No I just can’t seem to get a foot in the door

Written by:
Robert Weidman

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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