You wanna die before you get old
Your red hot temper has grown cold
You guard the scne you struggle to own
You think it's a restricted zone

Been around so long you don't know your name
Your head is swolen with all that fame

Your loving fans are growing few
With tunes so old, they're sick of you
Your hairs too long and so's your set
You won't be too hard to forget

-CHOR