Story Behind The Song

Meredith (from Ontario) and John and Willie (from Scotland) met in Nashville at songwriter camp in 2002. It was there that they learned about the 8c mechanical royalty rate. Meredith came up with the lyrics, Willie rewrote them and formed the basic song, and John added his ideas to create the finished article!

Song Description

Anger at miserable songwriter mechanical royalty set by US Congress!

Lyrics

Well, I came down to Nashville, to learn to pen a song
Try to make some money but, boy, was I all wrong!
My partner takes half, my agent even more
I?m hoping to get rich, but not before I?m poor
Now I?m 33, what is happening to me?
This isn?t where I expected to be

Now I?m fightin? for my eight cents
This life, it makes no sense
It isn?t much fun, there?s nowhere to run
I could find more in my sofa if I only had one
I?m fightin? for my eight cents
I?m fightin? for my eight cents

The life of a writer, it?s not what you?d expect
To spend your time awaiting the arrival of a cheque
And when it finally comes, you open it up quick
You?ve got enough money to buy yourself a pick
To sell a million copies, you work into the night
But it don?t add up, and it just ain?t right

I?m fightin? for my eight cents
This life, it makes no sense
It isn?t much fun, there?s nowhere to run
I could find more in my sofa if I only had one
I?m fightin? for my eight cents
I?m fightin? for my eight cents

I?m fightin? for my eight cents
This life, it makes no sense
It isn?t much fun, there?s nowhere to run
I could find more in my sofa if I only had one
Fightin? for my eight cents (fightin? for my eight cents)
Fightin? for my eight cents (fightin? for my eight cents)
Fightin? for my eight cents (fightin? for my eight cents)
Fightin? for my eight cents