we'll be dead before we're famous

We’ll end up dead before we end up famous
7 billion people in the world and there’s not enough camera time for all of us
let alone the quotient of starving artists that plan to make it big
one day

And I’ve never wanted to be famous anyway
never dreamed of being on the cover of a magazine
‘cause the only thing bright lights ever do
is highlight all my flaws
and while airbrushing might be okay for supermodels
I don’t want my frown lines botoxed away

There’s a packet of noodles with my name on it
and a bank account sitting just above absolute zero and
it feels like I’m chasing down dreams that don’t want me to eat
while some Hollywood fashionista would say that’s a good thing
‘cause I’m not skinny enough for a six figure dream

No one writes for the money
at least not while they still have their souls
and the pressure to be something more than I am
sometimes has me wanting to sell out for mass appeal
but it tends to come with panic attacks and self-loathing
because I’m no fairy tale writer, painting pastel hues on watercolour paper
for the clichéd romantics among us
and the pay is too far between tomorrow and the end of my life
for me to give it all up for street corner change

I used to dream of rock stars and fashion shows
figured money equalled success, and you can’t be lonely
when everybody loves you, even if they don’t know who you are
and yet all I dream for these days is a place of my own
where I can stack all my books, and have enough to eat
losing my hours to a job I love
that doesn’t involve glittering lights and fair weather friends
that only love me for the money I don’t actually have

Yeah, we’ll end up dead before we end up famous
7 billion people in the world and there’s not enough camera time for all of us

© Indie Adams 2013