Hello famous, I see you’re in the noose.
Leave Hollywood, I’ll cut you loose.
So tortured by the glamour,
So run-up by the glitz.
Promises make good liars.
It’s time for a switch.
Late nights as bar fights, and you still want to win.
Find your house keys as you drag him in.
They call you Miss Hollywood.
You call that right.
So Beauty-on-Hold,
How’s your life?
Broken-down morals
Compliment your broken-up nose.
’Tis all for the best;
So you know.
So you suppose.
Now you vacate the Hills for delusions in pills.
When they find you awake,
You’re still dead, for Hollywood’s sake!
“WILL WORK FOR FASHION”
When kicked from the club.
Miss Hollywood at six o’ clock,
So you’ve been dubbed.
With no one to truce,
You’re still in that noose.
They worship abuse.
Time ti cut your self loose.