The Rock Star Walks Away
No more sleazy temptress,
no more groupies,
you’re lock-stock out of luck
if you think you’ll
get you claws in me.
No more easy riders,
no more floozies,
you’re down-out in the dark
if you want to
take a piece of me.
No more black-out nights,
no more STDs,
played with fire too many times
to think that it’s
good for me.
No more endless nightfall,
no more moneyed hearts,
it’s rock-bottom taking toll
on a man who’s
already pushed too far.
No more fake award shows,
no more bastard art
it’s rot-gut soulless stuff
fully deserving
of those single stars.
No more mindless chatter,
no more watching charts
it’s fool’s gold draining soul
from a man
with little left to start.
It’s time to go.
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