What Have You Done

You own the spotlight at every premier. The paparazzi hone the tip of your spear. You scoff at rumors you were ever the one, But what have you done? Your limo whisks you away from the curb. You've always got the hottest table reserved. Your sense of decadence is second to none, But what have you done? You take your own walk of shame everywhere that you go As though you authored the role of the loveable rogue. You've played, The Drillmaster's Son, and, A Man with a Past. You’re married to the audience and sleep with the cast. You’re doing lines that were not in the script. Your private dressing room is fully equipped. You tease the organ grinder’s monkey for fun, But what have you done? You're like a kid with a dangerous toy. You wear the very face you wore as a boy. You race that pony 'bout as hard as she'll run, But what have you done? An actor pays for his fame with the hours he keeps. The nights are long in the lair where the beast never sleeps. You slammed a dime and a half to prepare for the scene. You memorized the dialogue, but what does it mean? It leaves a hole where the needle goes in. It’s got you hanging by the teeth of your skin. Just wanna close your eyes and stare at the sun, But what have you done? You picked a fine time to climb on your horse. You rode the trail that only leads to remorse. You packed your saddlebags and loaded your gun. Now look what you've done.