(Private Investigating) P.I.
Let’s face it, the world is having to limp by with a dearth of songs about Private Investigators. I mean, is that fair? Consider all those poor, trenchcoated loners whose only companion is that bottle of rotgut in their desk drawer, the secretary who loves him in spite of himself, the late nights, the cigarettes, the car chases, smacks on the head, bullets that “just barely missed your heart, Mickey” that they just shrug off as part of the cost of doing business. These flint-tough, unsung defenders of those from whom they refuse to accept payment, having afforded us countless hours of thrills, deserve at the very least their own song; an anthem of sorts. And here it is.