rhapsody of luxurious pain

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Said he has too much money to be sad at twenty,

He spend large bucks on living his life, who’s gonna trust him

His photos on the magazines, his names on everbody’s lips,

when he is up on the stage, everyone cheers his name,

though he doesn’t strung out on cokes, they believe he must have well off mates.

but when he drives at his home there’s no one to open the door,

Those wrecking curiosities hanging thru the shelf wasted by champagne.

Every night is an open invitation to Lucifer,

Exhausted picturing his portraits with every utopian colour,

Oh, god, the crestfallen laughter and those plastic lovely stares,

The elegiac gossips and loneliness was expensive too,

but the peace never sneaked in his world.

He was lost, but they say he was too young to be found,

Time was a host, and he cried all night had corpses of his illusion to cuddle

Wasn’t born with a blue spoon in mouth,

The delicate stars would shiver in his dreams, now disguised themselves in his ornamented wounds

He lived though the voices haunted him, he lived, though agony was the only room.

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