You are rockstar in your own mind
The truth however is unkind
playing an ancient air guitar
shining a burnt out old star
how many opportunities lost
how many potential friends never found
you are a run down old car
with worn out old trainers
a wreck who’s pained, yeah
with guilt if he’d but think
of all the hearts he’s broken
he charge down the road to give them all his love
instead of a mere token
his fire not awoken for years
the tears which would stain his pillow
would weep like a weeping willow
old before his time addicted to his history
His story no more than ordinary
but he fakes it till he makes it all the time
but if being rock star in your own mind
is a crime
he’s a death row criminal
but he’s done so little it’s minimal.
