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.