the show goes off
i’m here for the show, won’t you welcome me
nobody knows, what lives inside of me
there’s a spark, and then a flame
what lives inside is gold and fame
but i don’t want a fancy car, or expensive clothes
just a $70 shirt and a cigar
though the cigarettes i smoke are at the top
i think i’m fighting myself somewhere someplace in a bar
over the poor, the hurt, the destitute and the lost
nobody can answer what’s questioned by god
until you realize your friends gave you more credit than you think
until you really sit down at a pub and appreciate a drink.
