(P.Mark)
From the album Disposable Soul

Today they gave the man who wrecked my life
A Pulitzer prize
They said he found the truth
But it was a lie
Now there’s cameras pointed at my house
My shades, they’re all drawn
Hard-hitting journalism
Sure is hitting me hard

Now my kids are starting fights in school
And the maid gave notice today
They asked my wife for her best smile
When she packed up and drove away
My agent says sometimes bad press
Is a ticket to the top
Hard-hitting journalism
Sure is hitting me hard

I always made a point to check myself
And burn no bridges down
But now it seems like every friend I call
Is either tied up or out of town
You know it’s a crime when one man’s rise
Is built on another’s fall
Hard-hitting journalism
Sure is hitting me hard

That lady with a thousand questions
In a satellite dish-top van
She said she’d set the records straight
And I just had to laugh
I’m gonna hole up and write each day till I die
So when I’m gone they know
Hard-hitting journalism
Sure is hitting me hard