On contemplating how one becomes a star,
I appear to have stumbled upon a formula,
Something that will take me straight to the top,
Leapfrog all of those talentless fops.
They leave the Italia Conti,
And they think they’ve got it made,
Sell records to the dribbling mass,
Who claim financial aid.
But when people laugh instead,
They go out of their heads,
Although that’s not something,
I would necessarily dissuade.
On perusing the social diaries in the broadsheets at the club,
I pondered on this problem and thought,
“Ah! There’s the rub!”
So many useless stars once they are popular,
Turn to something else to hide what drivellers they are.
"I'll simply choose a nice Class A,
But heroin is so passé,"
I know what to do and I’ll give you a clue,
So listen to what I’m about to say…
I think I’ll try some of that crack cocaine,
I’ve heard it rather takes away the pain,
It’s the kind of caper that might get me in the papers,
I’m gonna be so critical acclaim.
I’ll make myself a nice drug hell,
A cheeky tale the press can tell,
And if I smoke some crack I might get my mojo back,
And win myself a Brit Award as-well!
They wanted me to go to rehab and I said,
“That sounds nice!”
Having my arse wiped by the lower class,
“That sounds nice!”
I’ve got lots of time and if they’re supplying the wine...
Then, they wanted me to go to rehab and I said,
“That sounds nice!”
So, I think I’ll try some of that crack cocaine,
I’ve heard it rather takes away the pain,
It’s the kind of caper that might get me in the papers,
I’m gonna be so critical acclaim.
I’ll make myself a nice drug hell,
A cheeky tale the press can tell,
And if I smoke some crack I might get my mojo back,
And win myself a Brit Award as-well!
I just might…
“That sounds nice!”