| You say you’ve been abused
|
| And I know that you’re confused
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| But you know that don’t excuse you
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| Superstar
|
| I’m not saying you should keep schtum
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| But all this howling at the moon
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| It’s a jester’s token gesture
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| It’s a joke that’s gone too far
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| Still your entourage is laughing
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| 'Cos they’re mode to
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| 'Cos they’re paid to
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| Superstar
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| You claim my words degrade you
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| I waylaid and then betrayed you
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| I even hear you threatening to resign
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| But how can I respect you?
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| For if I ever met you
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| That meeting was a fleeting blip in time
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| Now it’s hello Motorolla
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| And goodbye rock and roller
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| 'Cos there’s bourbon in the cola
|
| Superstar
|
| Now Sirius is rising
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| Against a bloody red horizon
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| And the morning star s hiding
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| In deference to Mars
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| It’s no time for compromising
|
| With the madness they’re devising
|
| 'Cos the dog days rays are deadly
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| As befits a rabid star
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| It’s a season without meaning
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| It’s deceiving and you’re dreaming
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| 'Cos you’re not the voice of reason
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| Superstar
|
| With your death metal laugh
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| And your cobwebbed lace shoes
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| And your mouldy old taste in bad rhythm and
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| Blues
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| And your cancer cell phone
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| And your yesterdays news
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| You’re the unwilling king
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| Of the unwilling crew
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| Still they walk some way behind you
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| 'Cos they’re hollow
|
| And they follow
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| Superstar |