Folksingers Are Boring (Andrew Calhoun, 1984) Nobody comes to the coffeehouse, Nobody comes to the coffeehouse, Nobody comes to the coffeehouse, Folksingers are boring. Boring, boring, boring, so boring, Nobody comes to the coffeehouse, Folksingers are boring. First they start some silly song, Try to make you sing along, Always drag it out too long: Folksingers are boring. First they sing about a train, Then they sing another song about a train, Then they sing a song about a train: Folksingers are boring. Folksingers have flabby buns, They all play the same bass runs, They're against the private ownership of handguns: Folksingers are boring. Folksingers are born to lose, They wear old and ratty shoes, Then they try to sing the blues: Then they're really boring. Give us salsa, give us soul, Give us good old rock and roll, Pass the bong and pass the bowl Folksingers are boring. @music @folk filename[ FLKSNGBR BR ===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY===