He sang about famous celebrities, made him rich
Being glib, clever, and handsome made him a star
He lived the life of gentleman, quite witty
His career in public took him far
When asked what moved him he didn't know
He thought about writhing in ecstasy's floes
It made him sick, the ignorance, the bliss
The world he saw was a step from the abyss
Nothing was worth remembering, or seeing
Knowing the truth, that nothing is real
Allowed him freedom and permanent ascent
Knowing that we live the masquerade
Became the message that he sent
Many live wearing masks, hating ourselves
Life is a difficult task, for some, Hell
He was simply reporting what was new
And he had found out
That no one likes the truth
