Some people wanna be somebody

 Nobody wants to be a nobody


  Could be anyone

Some get lucky

 some get laid

  some go free and some want to get paid

  That's how we're all made

Some live in a storm of wild delight

Some will play with fire, 'til it burns too bright.

But be you rich, or poor, or royal

 No matter how you toil

  you cannot foil

  this mortal coil

We are not built, 

 that we can last

  Soon our future is our past

  For the die is cast

No one lives for ever, we're pretty sure

But we endeavor to endure




My Arse

Is this our fate

 Is that our lot

  Do all our treasures count for nought

  Are all our songs forgot

But what is lost

 If we are free

 If we are not, then what are we

 But vanity

The here and now has been and gone

And anything that's left will not be long




My Arse