Tire Kickers

INTRO — Afrobeat percussion builds, shaker loop, synth arp pulses in D# minor

Tick tock, tick tock...

My calendar's full but my pipeline is not...

Tick tock, tick tock...

You booked thirty minutes for absolutely what...

VERSE 1

You slid into my inbox with a "quick question, real fast"—

Fourteen emails later and I'm living in your past.

You loved the deck, you loved the demo, loved the pricing page,

Then ghosted like a poet in their disappearing stage.

You said "let's loop in Sarah," so I looped in Sarah too,

Sarah looped in Marcus, Marcus looped in "legal's view."

Three weeks deep in threading and the calendar's a crime—

Everybody's interested, but nobody's on time.

You asked me for a proposal—customized, detailed, precise,

I sent it over Tuesday, you said "wow, this looks real nice."

Then silence. Then a cricket. Then a tumble-weed parade.

I followed up on Friday—you were "slammed"—you were "delayed."

PRE-CHORUS

Oh, I see you on my calendar, hovering like a ghost,

Taking up the bandwidth of the ones who matter most.

I gave you all my energy, my pitch, my A-game shine—

You gave me sweet nothing on a thirty-minute line.

CHORUS

Please don't book a slot! Please no second thought!

Yes, you—go away! I have no time today!

Please don't book a slot!

Yes you—there's nothing for you… I bid adieu!!!

I bid adieu, I say good day,

I say—you there—my death stare—

Nothing to see, find no place to be!

Get on up outta my hair!

You there… I have no time to spare…

Good day to you!

Oh, Tire Kickers, Time Wasters, my oh my!

Oh, Tire Kickers, Time Wasters, say goodbye!

Oh, Tire Kickers, Time Wasters, don't even try!

Oh, Tire Kickers, Time Wasters—bye bye bye!

VERSE 2

You wanted a free audit, so I audited your whole mess,

Mapped your gaps, flagged your traps, gave you more than I confess.

You took my deck to your team like a gift you didn't pay for,

Implemented half my strategy, then said you'd "circle back, sure."

You "need to run it by the board"—the board that doesn't meet,

You "love the vision, love the fit"—but your budget's incomplete.

You'll "definitely decide by Q3"—that was two Q3s ago,

Now you're back in my DMs asking "any promos though?"

You booked the call from Bali with your camera fully off,

Your dog was barking, kid was screaming—I heard someone cough.

You said "sorry, where were we?" eleven minutes in—

We were at the part where I question all my discipline.

PRE-CHORUS

Oh, I smell it in the intro, I can taste it in the stall—

The ones who burn your calendar never planned to buy at all.

You gave me sweet nothing with a handshake and a grin,

Now my pipeline's full of phantoms and my patience wearing thin.

CHORUS

Please don't book a slot! Please no second thought!

Yes, you—go away! I have no time today!

Please don't book a slot!

Yes you—there's nothing for you… I bid adieu!!!

I bid adieu, I say good day,

I say—you there—my death stare—

Nothing to see, find no place to be!

Get on up outta my hair!

You there… I have no time to spare…

Good day to you!

Oh, Tire Kickers, Time Wasters, my oh my!

Oh, Tire Kickers, Time Wasters, say goodbye!

Oh, Tire Kickers, Time Wasters, don't even try!

Oh, Tire Kickers, Time Wasters—bye bye bye!

BRIDGE — half-time, guitar slide melody, percussion drops to shaker only

I used to chase every LEED like it was gold in the stream,

Every "maybe" was a "yes" inside my optimistic dream.

But maybe taught me nothing—maybe stole my afternoon,

Maybe had me writing SOWs by the light of a rejection moon.

Now I qualify the vibe before I qualify the spend,

If your timeline's made of vapor, this is where the conversation ends.

Not bitter—just selective. Not cold—just finally clear.

The sweetest word in sales, my love, is a fast and honest "no right here."

VERSE 3

To the ones who show up ready with a problem and a plan,

With a budget and a timeline and a "yes, let's shake a hand"—

You're the reason that I do this, you're the signal in the noise,

You don't window-shop my calendar like it's filled with little toys.

But to you—yeah you—the lurker with the "just exploring" line,

Who's been "evaluating options" since two thousand and nine,

Who downloads every white paper but won't answer when I call—

I wish you well, I wish you health, I wish you down the hall.

PRE-CHORUS

'Cause life is short, the funnel's long, and time is what I sell,

And every hour spent on ghosts is an hour I can't compel

Toward the ones who mean it, toward the ones who care—

So if you're not that person... kindly exit... stage... right... there.

FINAL CHORUS

Please don't book a slot! Please no second thought!

Yes, you—go away! I have no time today!

Please don't book a slot!

Yes you—there's nothing for you… I bid adieu!!!

I bid adieu, I say good day,

I say—you there—my death stare—

Nothing to see, find no place to be!

Get on up outta my hair!

You there… I have no time to spare…

Good day to you!

Oh, Tire