WHY IT PAYS TO BE BAD

 

 

It pays to be bad.

 

It pays to get drunk, use illegal drugs;

It pays to vandalize and to steal;

Get tattooed and pierce all your parts -

They're so ugly.

 

It pays to be promiscuous:

What fun !

 

It pays

To beat up on your spouse, your friends,

Your dog.

 

It pays

To live like a pig.

 

(Sorry. This gives pigs an undeserved rap).

 

It pays to be a criminal,

Rude, vulgar, filthy.

Spit in the sidewalk;

Pull your skirt up just a little higher.

 

It pays to lie and to cheat.

Why not?

Everybody does it -

And no one cares.

 

How do I know all this ?

 

It is before everyone's eyes

All day, every day,

But who pays any attention?

 

And speaking of attention -

 

Who gets all the attention?

 

Not crime victims;

Not people who live clean, honest lives;

Not people who work hard every day,

And bring their earnings home

To provide for their families.

 

Do you ever see any of them on TV ?

 

No !

All the western world's attention

Goes to the criminals -

Especially if they "reform"

And become "do-gooders"

And start to go to church.

And repent of their sins -

 

And weep.

 

It pays to be bad:

Your Mom will be overjoyed

When you come home,

Reformed and contrite.

You were always

"Such a good child" -

 

Or

You were misguided - but now -

You are saved:

Praise the Lord !

 

So be a criminal for a while,

And get everything you want,

Any way you want.

Then find the right moment to "reform" -

To have a St. Paul moment

Eclat on the Road to Damascus !

And the media will bless you

With all the attention you ever dreamed of.

 

Lights, camera, action !

Smile -

With just a little tear

In the corner of your eye.

 

And the public will reward you

With love and money,

And praise.

 

Publishers will rush to do your book;

TV producers will burn up your phone,

Eager for interviews.

 

Of course it pays to be bad.

And you can grin,

And count all your blessings

When no one is watching.

 

Praise the Lord !

All is forgiven.

 

Oh, Yes. It pays to be bad.

 

My life might have been so much easier,

If I had known all this back then.

 

Darn !

 

There I was, through all the years,

Suffering through the night,

Regretting my every imperfection,

 

Not imperfect enough to be granted

Attention -

 

Or

Justice.

 

Too damn nice !

 

It pays to be bad.