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I may be a little kid, but I have been around.
Can hear the girls all scream soon as our wheels touch down.
Drunk kids in Tokyo, fashion shoots in Milan.
Then private jet to Madison Square Garden.
Thirty six week long tours, ten singles on the charts.
So hear my message girl 'cause it comes from the heart.

Help me, my parents sold me to a big producer in the record industry.
He makes me do things that I don't wanna do.
Please call child services or maybe SVU.
You gotta help me, my parents sold me to a big producer in the music industry.
They took the cash and left me to the screaming masses,
If I'd known all this I'd have skipped those dancing classes.

I tried to run away one time in Belarus,
They beat me with phone books so that I wouldn't bruise.
I just can't take no more rich kid's bar mitzvahs,
Or big sleep overs with Saudi princes.
Blinked S.O.S. in morse code once at the VMAs.
They sprayed me with a hose in a pit for three days
And when my sales drop off they'll take me to a resort
And let rich business men hunt me down for sport.

"Hold up I'm just coming in on the song to check on what you're talking about.
Don't think of me as a record exec, but a father figure, a pal."

Help me!

"This kid's a real prankster, this is one of his practical jokes."

It's not!

"Thank you for your concern, but there's nothing to see here folks."

Don't leave!

"That's just exhaustion talking. Poor little guy is tuckered out."

Call the police!

"I'll just take him back to the tour bus and we'll get him straightened out."

Don't let him put me in the box!

"There is no box. I don't even know what that means."

It's where I sleep!

"Now we've gotta run, but for your trouble here's some front row seats!"

You gotta help me, my parents sold me to a big producer in the music industry.
Oh, God please help me take some action.
This didn't work out for Michael Jackson.
Can someone help me, don't ignore what I said.
They'll sacrifice me to the god Baphomet.


Lyrics submitted by Clockman89, edited by cec121088

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  • +1
    General CommentA few corrections for the lyrics:

    "Drunk kids in Tokyo"

    "They sprayed me with a hose, in a pit for 3 days."

    "But a father figure, a pal."

    "But for your trouble here's some front row seats!"

    "They'll sacrifice me, to the god Baphomet."
    Cekil1on September 12, 2014   Link

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