| Stars, they come and go |
| They come fast, they come slow |
| They go like the last light of the sun, all in a place |
| And all you see is glory here |
| But it gets lonely there when there's no one there to share |
| You can shake it away, if you hear a story |
|
| People lost for fame, like athletes in a game |
| They break their collar bones and come up swinging |
| Some of them are crowned, some of them are downed |
| Some are lost, and never found |
|
| But most have seen it all |
| They live their lives in sad cafés and online halls |
| And they always have a story |
|
| Some make it when they're young |
| Before the world has done its dirty job |
| And later on someone will say you've had your day |
| Now you must make way |
|
| But they'll never know the pain |
| Of using a name you never owned |
| And the years of forgetting what you've known too well |
| That you, who gave the crown, have been let down |
| You try to make amend, without defending, perhaps pretending |
|
| You never saw the eyes of young men at 25 |
| Who followed as you walked, asked for autograph |
| Kissed you on the cheek |
| You always knew that they don't really love you |
|
| Some make it when they're old |
| Perhaps they have a soul |
| They aren't afraid to bear her |
| Perhaps there's nothing there |
|
| Stars, they come and go |
| They come fast, they come slow |
| They go like the last light of the sun, all in a place |
| And all you see is glory, but it gets lonely there |
|