Obviously, Zubenelgenubi doesn't sell many tickets these days. But my friend told me it was actually never a huge draw at the Planetarium and that's a bit of a misconception. I don't believe any of us are debating its existence... or lack there of, just its ability to move orbits.
Stars, they come and go. They come fast, 'n slow. They go like the last light of the sun, All in a blaze. And all you see is glory. Hey, but it gets loney there, When there's no one here to share. We can shake it away, If you'll hear a story.
People lust for fame, Like athletes in a game. We break our collarbones, And come up swinging. Some of us are downed Some of us are crowned, And some of are lost and never found. But most have seen it all. They live their lifes, In sad cafes and music halls. They always come up singing.
Some make it when they're young, Before the world has done it's 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 living with a name you never owned. Or the many years forgetting, What you know too well, That the ones who gave the crown, Have been let down. You try to make amends without defending.
Perhaps pretending you never saw the eyes Of grown men of twenty-five, That follow as you walked, And asked for autographs, Or kissed you on the cheek. And you never could believe, They really loved you. Some make it when they're old Perhaps they have a soul They're not afraid to bare. Or 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 blaze. And all you see is glory. Most have seen it all. They live their lifes, In sad cafes and music halls. They always have a story.
Some women have a body, Men will want to see. And so they put it on display. Some people play a fine guitar. I could listen to them play all day. Some ladies really move across a stage, And, gee, they sure can dance. I guess I could learn how, If I gave it half a chance. But I always feel so funny When my body tries to soar. And I seem to always worry, About missing the next chord.
Guess there isn't anything, To put up on display. Except the tunes, And whatever else I say. And anyway, that isn't really, What I meant to say. I meant to tell a story. I live from day to day.
Stars, they come and go. They come in fast, they come slow. They go like the last light of the sun, All in a blaze. And all you see is glory. But most have seen it all, Live their lifes, In sad cafes and music halls. and We always have a story. So, if you don't lose patience, With my fumbling around, I'll come up singing for you, Even when I'm down.
There was also apparently a "talking" greeting card by Hallmark that the NAACP had pulled from the shelves a couple years ago because it said "black holes" and somebody on the NAACP decided that it sounded like it was saying "black whores."
joined:5/10/05
Posted: 8/16/12 at 10:59am