Chris Ayer
Fade
He paints a picture of the beauty that his life’s supposed to bea few revisions to a self-important personalityhe writes his poetry, trims his new goateemaking sure that his empire doesn’t slackuntil the cameras in his head all fade to blackno way, you’ve finally got a reason to lose faith in thisthis sad excuse of sincere artistrywhen everyone is trying so hard to be seensaying no one else will be seen over mehe writes a new song, with all the words to make you understandwell he doesn’t mean it but he fakes it fine when he’s playing in his bandthey’ve got a retro sound, got the genre down, with all the old pioneers under attacktil the cameras in their heads all fade to blackno way, you’ve finally got a reason to lose faith in thisthis sad excuse of sincere artistrywhen everyone is trying so hard to be seensaying no one else will be seen over meand don’t we all, after all,just want ourselves a little perfect piece of poetry?Jack said that we could “burn and bea roman candle exploding across the stars” – so farthe beatniks haven’t stopped fooling me, the movie gods are still fooling meI paint a picture of the beauty that my life’s supposed to bea poignant picture that slowly/dramatically fades to black
From Letras Mania