Silencing the echo's

Riches and Fame

I could care less
about fame and riches!

Some wrap it around their shoulders,
others wear it on their fingers.
Name in lights, yes there are those.
A home in Beverly Hills, three million dollars.

Fame has a price and riches are easily squandered.
I think of those hypnotized by the glitter.
How the sparkle washes away in the morning light,
when death's stench has set in and some poor sap
with too much money has overdosed
on twenty thousands dollars worth of cocaine.
Money sure can buy you anything. Even death.

That actress once looked different,
all wholesome and well "REAL".
Now, who she was mixes with the plastic she bought for her body.
When she's laid to rest parts of her will take years to decay,
if they ever do. Her fame didn't buy her immortality,
however it did buy her a nice set of boobs.

I've decided money and fame "CAN" get you somewhere,
it's the somewhere that's scary. I'd rather not buy into it;
I'm rather content in my little corner of the earth,
struggling in the real world.

I pinch pennies and shop at Wal-mart.
I guess I'll go to my grave rich in life.

Oh wait, I did have five minutes of fame once. A nod, not for an Oscar,
this recognition presented itself with a hardy slap on a back
and a certificate stating "A Job Well Done".
I hated the attention it drew, I was red faced for over an hour.

My "Real" glorious moment was when I missed my seat at Furr's Cafeteria.
I ended up on the floor, it was a comedic performance.
Now (that) was a scene which should have won an Oscar.

Oh well, at least I'll decay the way a human is supposed to.
My body returning to dust. Nothing polluting the ground
which the next generation will have to clean up.

Yeah, fame isn't for me.