if you’re dazzled by those neon lights,
crave the paparazzi’s sights
and want the world to know your pathetic plight
then you’ve got the making of a star
they’ll take you
they’ll make you
first they’ll love
and then they’ll hate you
before they drain you dry
and then forsake you
if you don’t have the smarts to grow
and you are a little slow
then Hollywood’s the place to go
(only as long as you can’t say ‘no’)
yes
they’ll charm you
and disarm you
then spin about you
some yarn untrue
not caring if they hurt or harm you
(hey that’s just business kid)
yes
and when your career is
washed up on the shore
after spending a lifetime
as the media’s whore
you wonder why
they no longer adore
you
and why no-hope hacks say ‘poor
you’
and why no-one wants any more
of you
the truth; they are all bored
and sick of you
three month’s later
they find you dead
o.d’d of morphine in your
retirement home bed
and then they’ll love you
again
wanted to have known you
again
acted like they were friends to you
again
and as you rot in your coffin
in a shallow unmarked ditch
posthumous humour kicks in
as you realise that
it was your own fault
that life to you was such a b itch