Never do I want my talent to be tainted by fame,
I don’t want my responses to be tamed,
Because with a claim to fame, comes the quench of a flame.
The flame, that burned in your audiences eyes all the same.
The fame will smother and murder it,
Murder the criticism and honesty of it,
Hype up the undeserving worship,
Until you just give up and substance gets a skip.
Until death do you part,
And if you’re going to stop don’t start,
So, you can give your all, but keep it hidden,
Because once you show, they will take it all, till you’re bedridden.
Down trodden, broken until it spills out of you.
You’re left with a shotgun to your brain thinking this pain is true,
But this pain isn’t you, it’s just a side effect of fame,
A side effect of the drug, you unknowingly claim.