| Once I was hailed as a prodigal son
|
| In other words loved by everyone
|
| Now it’s so different wherever I go
|
| Nobody wants to know
|
| Tried having meetings running about
|
| Same as I did when I started out
|
| Now though different wherever I go
|
| Nobody wants to know
|
| Could have been normal
|
| And look like the rest
|
| But I in my wisdom
|
| Decided instead
|
| To create an image and this at a time
|
| When image was one word nobody minded you
|
| Being abusive too
|
| Standing in doorways for hours on end
|
| Waiting to get back a tape I send
|
| And when I get it what does it show
|
| Nobody wants to know
|
| Sign on the door say’s better come in
|
| So I enter and play them my songs
|
| They tell me (all the ones that you had bits with in the early days were great)
|
| And, while the new ones really sound bang up to date
|
| There’s not a market for a singer of your age
|
| Unless of course he’s dead (dead! That’s it you got a deal
|
| Look at Buddy Holly, Roy Orbison and Elvis
|
| Why he sold more records after his death
|
| Than he ever did when he was alive
|
| You’ll be a sensation number one all
|
| Over again I an see it now his twenty gravest hits)
|
| Sooner or later I will succeed
|
| Good luck and timing is all I need
|
| But for the moment where can I go
|
| Nobody wants to know licking my wounds from not only my face is getting to be
|
| so be so common place
|
| That even the angel my guardian one supposedly there to protect me anonymously
|
| is as nervous as can be
|
| I have no reason at all to suspect
|
| Hatred of me adds to my neglect
|
| Not that it matters cancel the show
|
| Nobody wants to know |