"Give me a hit song" said a man behind a desk
We give you musicians and show you how to dress
Your name would be on posters in city and in town
But now I realize I'm just a music maker's clown

Give me a chancer to show you what I'd do
The words you hear so often from the music maker's queue
But few are rarely chosen for the job that lies ahead
The ones that are so lucky often wish that they were dead

Feeling shattered and I can't carry on
Feeling shattered just to see thе passion warming
From the man who wrote the song

And oftеn when you reap rewards and you are sitting nice
And knocked his hand upon the door, the taxman's just arrived
I've come about a man or Sir that's owing to the queen
And then I realized I'm just a tax collector's dream

And like so many others now, my hours are nine to five
I buy the music papers and watch new stars arrive
Their names are on the posters in cities and in towns
But I know they've been chosen to be music maker's clowns

Feeling shattered and I can't carry on
Feeling shattered just to see the passion warming
From the man who wrote the song
Feeling shattered, feeling shattered
Feeling shattered, feeling shattered
Feeling shattered, feeling shattered