When I hit the scene, I will get away with murder.
Cause when I dress to kill I get away with murder.
Cause I'm a star.
Yeah, I'm a star, and you're not
Gonna hit.
What we do alone all the boys are gonna wonder.
While the girls whisper tales of my pillage and plunder.
Cause I'm a star.
Yeah, I'm a star, and you're not
Gonna hit.
It isn't about taste.
It's about power. It's about control.
The media's to blame.
They thirst for your blood and feed off your soul.
We could have had something,
But I can't see you through this bed sheet's hole.
So who cares about what could have been?
The fluorescent bathroom lights are so unkind.
I scrub and I brush, but the dirt under my nails
Is everything I own. What an excuse for a home
When this mirror's image is my only true companion.
Cause I'm a bore,
And I'm caught.
A fading echo.
The mere thought!
And you can stay, but you're not
Gonna hit.
credits
from Free Thinker,
released June 11, 2015
Trust Fund Junky: Guitar, vocals
Self Destruct Mode: Bass
Hollywood South: Drums
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