Heaven is heartache

Heaven is heart ache

just beating in my chest

At least it’s still there

It gives me no rest.

I turned down a goddess in her underwear

just so I could play saviour

all my dreams made of paper

nightmares paper cuts

doomed to hear the words of sluts

Starving just to lap up leftovers up

I dream of being a hero

but I am fascinated by the villainess

the heroine is too much of a drug

I slug it out with my mind but depression is a thug

dominating my ever move

I love to dance but my song isn’t my groove

Pop star pink

Really you’re a can of dreams
a product on a shelf
A mystery sold with stealth
cool as a cucumber
you don’t slumber
Your image bright as a summers day
To the music industry you pray
to break through
into the mainstream
a pop artist with an image sheen
singing a clean song
when you want to swear
creativity gone your left with despair
and singing in your underwear
to pull in the punters
life is full of grunter’s and groaner’s
and beautiful songstress moaners
sounding like their fresh as a big O
or dancing like a jiggle low
you all sound the same
but the money’s good
sing for all your worth you know you should.