Words and Music by Matt Hanley
Hitch-hiked to town from a flyover state.
Craves designer threads but he can’t pay
Ballin and striking a pose
For bargains he’s got a nose
Raiding ninth street thrift stores
For Starter clothes.
Made a fly jacket from a curbside drape.
Faux tuxedo pants with black electrical tape.
Boppin’ from show to show.
Sneakin’ up row by row.
Meeting and greeting the swingers
In starter clothes.
I introduced him to the hippest scene
He was under my wing.
Where I got in I’d say make it a plus one
He’s the guy that I’d bring.
I gave him a job helping manage my band.
I came to count on his spunk. He was my right hand.
At first his standing was low.
His status and income did grow.
After three months he discarded his starter clothes.
Came a night I crashed; well Johnny stepped and filled in.
Impressed the lads. They said this cat can sing.
He hit the highs and the lows.
So he was the singer they chose.
I was abandoned like a pile of starter clothes.
I took him in he was under
Under my wing.
I lost my right hand.
And lost my place in the band.
Left with the knowledge that I’m just
I’m just starter clothes
© 2022 Matthew P. Hanley (BMI)