Is there a shortcut to becoming a star again?
Sometimes I wonder if I ever was one.
It is all I can do to close my eyes
And look ahead, to when all the little people
Will close their eyes and dream of me.
They tell me I'm made of stardust.
How is it that some people have learned
To be stars here on earth?
How do they hold infinite infernos
Beneath their skin?
I know that I have no hope of that.
I would burn away like a matchstick.
I am not built to be so full of light and fire.
So I look ahead, and I hope that they're right,
And I toy with fragments of memories
And moments in my mind,
Looking for a shortcut.