Silver lady, lost in a haze, Rregretting what you are The memory of your claim to fame Is left to bitter stars. It hurts when people let you know You’re not a movie star It’s harder now than yesterday, As the lines begin to show.
Waiting, crazy hotel lady, To try and get some wine, Waiting for the elevator To take you to your blind.
Silver shoes and see-through blues Hit me right between the eyes.
Cocktail bars, straight-edge cars, Are your dreams come true. Tomorrow shouldn’t know it, But now it’s showin’ through and through.
It hurts when people let you know That you’re not a movie star.
Compositores: Andrew John Powell (Andrew Powell) (PRS), Lawrence Mark Wisefield (Laurie Wisefield) (PRS), Martin Turner, Steve UptonEditor: Edward Kassner Music Co Ltd (PRS)ECAD verificado obra #7672762 em 10/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM