Being Famous Poem by James McLain

and i would never do that
back then, but know?
every one that did has died
they stopped.
some come, you ask me how.
and in simple truth, i did do that.
not to you.
why ask me why?
glamorized is leather wrapped in lace?
are you sure you want to be?
it is hot, it is cold, upon the stage
where all grow old.
and all the faces look the same.
when the light is shining down,
into your eyes, they see your tears
they want more not less you cry.
O, 'daddy why, I ever came with you.
and in simple truth, fame is but their lies
that makes your dreams in sleep
come true, for all but not for you.
open up your eyes and take a hold of this
I'm your scotch and your my cigarette
the worlds on fire, come hurry up
and we can both, lets put them out.
The sea is full of corks they're bobbing
out there up and down, thanks to them.