I've tried to find a new career, but my feet are stuck on this stage.
I'd like to be a film star, but I haven't got the legs.
I'd even do an advert if they told me that I had a look,
But it's only sex that sells, so it all becomes a screenplay.

Warehouse, burning oil, prop,
No, she says you've killed him.
He's out of shot but,
You can see him moving, you can tell that he's not dead yet.
I'm not there yet.

Too many scenes without leaving the stage.
I'm fooling myself, I'm in the way, in the wings,
And dreaming of the gunfight, I don't care which part I play.
I'll be the shooter or the shot at, I'm not bothered either way.

Warehouse, burning oil, prop,
No, she says you've killed him.
He's out of shot but,
You can see him moving, you can tell that he's not dead yet.
I'm not there yet.

I've got a long way to go.
Indeed, indeed.

Ok, so I'll admit that I have shown all my depravity,
Because standing on the stage the world sees me for who I am.
Pretence is such an ugly word, but not when acceptance of yourself
Is something that you dread every second, every day.

I've tried to find a new career, but my feet are stuck on this stage.
I'd like to be a film star, but I haven't got the legs.
I'd even do an advert if they told me that I had a look,
But it's only sex that sells, so it all becomes a screenplay.

Warehouse, burning oil, prop, (Screenplay!)
No, she says you've killed him. (Too late!)
He's out of shot but,
You can see him moving, you can tell that he's not dead yet.
I'm not there yet.