50,000
Another obituary in the paper today,
One more for the list of those who've already fallen
Another one of our comrades is taken down,
Like so many others of our calling
We tweet our anecdotes, our commentary,
Or we sing his songs in some sad tribute,
While the tabloids are holding a story of kiss and tell,
That he's no longer able to deny or refute
50,000 voices rising every time he'd sing,
And every word he ever wrote reflecting back to him
How well I remember the stadiums we played,
And the lights sweeping across a sea of 50,000 souls we'd face
A serious drug that you could never kick,
Or one that you couldn't imagine you'd ever replace
We flew like kites on the wings of amphetamine,
Secured only to a bass line and a snare drum beat
But really what did any of it mean?
When there's a higher philosophy in reflection and defeat
50,000 voices rising every time he'd sing,
And every word he ever wrote reflecting back to him
Still believing that old lie, the one that your own face betrays,
Rock Stars don't ever die, they only fade away
Reflecting now on my own past,
Inside this prison I've made of myself
I'm feeling a little better today,
Although the bathroom mirror is telling me something else
These lines of stress, one bloodshot eye,
The unhealthy pallor of a troubled ghost
Where did I put my spectacle case?
I'm half blind and as deaf as any post
50,000 hands are raised to a man that's just like you and me
We create the gods we can and gift them immortality
Still believing that old lie, the one that your own face betrays,
Rock Stars don't ever die, they only fade away
