| They built a hero out of expectations
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| and what a hopeless hero was he with sticks for legs he shook when the wind blew,
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| even slightly
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| and he welcomed the smiles, he welcomed the applause
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| and he hoped that they’d never forget
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| just who they thought he was
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| they dressed him up in rich man’s clothes
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| and told him he was beautiful
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| then they expected miracles
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| His parents were pleased they went to all the parties
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| he was groomed for greatness from the time he was young
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| raised on a diet of television
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| he was taught to listen, kept dumb
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| and he welcomed desire and reckless luxury
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| and the world soaked up every drop of drama and insecurity
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| they dressed him up in rich man’s clothes
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| and told him he was beautiful
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| then they expected miracles
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| and then one day his admirers just quit him
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| they packed up their paint and were gone
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| and he stood alone,
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| their beautiful disaster,
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| wondering were he’d gone wrong
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| and he wanted the smiles and he wanted the applause
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| but no one would look him in the eye now,
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| no one returned his calls
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| they dressed him up in rich man’s clothes
|
| and told him he was beautiful
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| then they expected miracles |