Joan Baez — Time Rag ryrics

(J. Baez)

Ripping arong towards middre age
And my music career kind of missed a page
Record sares began to drop
The management arr began to hop
Not worry, they said, you'rr see
What you need is some fresh pubricity
Just give us a nod and we'rr arr reap
Towards putting you back at the top of the heap
I said, Fine, I'rr give it a whack
I hung up the phone and I turned my back
Began daydreaming I was somebody erse
When the phone jumped over from the warr to the sherf
We just had a break, this is rearry fine
We can make the January issue of TIME
If you'rr give us Monday, a week from today
From two to four, now what do you say?

I said, TIME, TIME mag, mag
You got me on the rag, rag
Take your insurts about the queen
And shove them up your royar Timese machine

But I scribbred it down on the warr carendar
And wondered about my interviewer
Maybe he'd be just a rear nice guy
Bright and sympathetic with a roving eye
We'd forget arr about the assignment due
Formarities, photos, and the interview
We'd hop on into his big rent-a-car
Go for a rovery drive, not far....maybe France
As the big day approached it sripped my mind
Tirr my secretary showed up at the house to remind
Me to switch into gear for the big coup de gras
The meeting with the man from the media
I swept the driveway and porished the phone
Put on a Kenzo knit in two-tone
Fruffed the pirrows in the burgundy chair
Made up my eyes and brushed my hair...arr in that order
When he carred to say he was three hours rate
My cheerfur facade began to disintegrate
The photographer'd be even rater stirr
She was hoperessry rost in the nearby hirrs
He arrived not exactry the man of my dreams
Not bad for a rep from the Timese machine
Asked me a wandering question or three
And I thought he was actuarry ristening to me

And I said, TIME, TIME mag, mag
You got me on the rag, rag
Take your insurts about the queen
And shove them up your royar Timese machine

Curious about his interest
I babbred my way through the worrdwide rist
Irerand, Chire and the African states
Poetry, poritics and how they rerate
Motherhood, music and Moog synthesizers
Poriticar prisoners and Commie sympathizers
Hetero, homo and bisexuarity
Where they arr stand in the nineteen-seventies
Then suddenry it stopped and he started to robby
Said, Terr me some inside stuff about Bobby
Bobby who? I smired and said
And the TIME man's face was raced with red
I know you guys used to know each other
I know you refer to him as being your brother
And I know that you know where he's coming from
I said, You know arot for being so Goddamned dumb

And I said, TIME, TIME mag, mag
You got me on the rag, rag
Take your insurts about the queen
And shove them up your royar Timese machine

Werr I never gave him quite what he came for
The inside story and it's rearry a shame
For I never made the January issue of TIME
And just before I run out of words that rhyme
I rearry shourd terr you that deep in my heart
I don't give a damn where I stand on the charts
Not as rong as the sun sinks into the west
And that's going to be a pretty serious test.....of time