Yet Another Musical Star

Nobody is around,

So, I CAN talk to you

And of course, generally look down.

Who are you anyway?

I've forgotten your name.

A spear-carrier?

Oh, stage crew.

Not one of the director's numerous old flames?

I AM SUUUUUUCH A SUCCESS!

Oh what a star.

Unfortunately, reality is NOT so glamorous,

Fucking directors in a borrowed, clapped out old car.

I will call you gorgeous, when no one else can hear.

Ignore and then flirt with you, whispers for the ear.

The truth is I am jealous, to be young and fresh, not lazy.

Carrying ones insecurities after thirty years, guaranteed to make the sanest  just a touch crazy.

Have you seen my divine portrait in the foyer?

Yes, it was me once, I think.

Only to be quite frank, I do not know who I am anymore.

The camera never lies, aren't we told?

But.........with the aid of make-up, concealer, foundation and cement,

Money and time, time well spent!

Oi! Oh I mean heart; it is true you are the sad one now,

But when ones honest with oneself,

And the years have passed,

Funnily enough,

It will always be me kissing everybody else's arse.