Found the nerve to sing my songs at a local open mic
I’ll get some inspiration and to play and drink a pint
The signup sheet filled up quick so I penned the dotted line
“You’ll do fine, you’ll do fine, you’ll do fine”

Crowd was intoxicated and smoke was in the air
We all get fifteen minutes anymore it won’t be fair
The players sang two songs and then again to fill their set
“You’re up next, do your best and break a leg”

Chorus
You can’t hear yourself above the din
The monitors’ sound like shit
The feedback from the mains is kinda lame
Enjoy your fifteen minutes of fame

Check that I’m in tune and do my “do-re-me’s” outside
Calm my trepid heart and quell my pre-show butterflies
I only have three tries to prove that I am bona fide
Hope it works ‘cause the stage just feels right

Chorus
I can’t hear myself above the din
The youthful celebrate old sins
I’ll party with new strangers I call friends
Dedicate my fifteen minutes to them

Some of us will get a chance to prove that we can shine
With a guitar and a melody and a song you wrote last night
They’re not handing out graduation papers for creativity
Not by them; not for you; not for me

Chorus
You got fifteen minutes and what it takes
make a stand; state a case
Stamp down their cold impressions to the floor
But you need fifteen minutes more
But you need fifteen minutes more
All you need fifteen minutes more