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You...say...things...
Aren't going well. You're halfway to hell,
You've lost everything that counts.

Gone is your spouse...and maybe the house...
All you haven't lost are pounds.
The kids are bawling, creditors calling,

When did life become this curse?
The car won't run, your days seem done,
Could things ever get worse?

Chorus:

But then there's Oprah, Phil and Sally
and Jerry Springer too
A little dose of a Talk Show Host

You won't seem quite as blue.
'Cause if that's the world, or part of it,
Where Madam's are sometimes Sir's

You'll quit complaining things could be worse
Those calamities could be yours.

I...mean...that...
Stuff on there will raise your hair, you'll do a double take.
Like a pretty John with high heels on

out looking for a date,
Or that big bald headed woman...
With a tattoo on her face,

Who swears she was abducted by a man from outer space

Now I know your lover left you,
With who you thought was your best friend
And the dog you taught to fetch a ball

Just bit you in your rear end.
But remember that guy on Springer
Who cried and fought and swore

That last week he talked to Elvis at
A Memphis Walmart store.

Well, the dog bite, it'll heal.
And the hurt'n, it's just a cut.

And the lover who left you
Well, it's best that he did,
He'll probably wind up on his butt.

So give thanks for life
Even when it's not the best,
You see, there's always worse...

You could be a Talk Show Guest!

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