The stars on old movie screens
That chase boys that chase dreams
Are deceivers of their own kind

No king or queen, just
Pawns and fiends to the
Fans in the new land of
No money being overtaken by the
Owners of old money

And to find out that these stars,
That in ways shine brighter than
The stars hovering over heads,
Are just posing as kidding kissers is
Devastating

When money is waste and
Shelters are torn by God’s breath,
You think that the one thing you
Could rely on is love

However the mad scientists of Hollywood are distributing these Beautiful new Frankenstein’s of their Own creation to take hold of the Innocent humble hearts that
Sit in the chests of everyone that’s been
Beaten six feet underground but hasn’t
Passed, yet

You think they could have some
Dignity and respect and show us
The truth rather than the façade that
Covers up the fact they’re really just
Falling, or have already fallen, into the
Deep hole that has already been dug for
The majority of us

These non-livid lovers,
These curious companions,
These vivid valentines,
They give us hope

Hope that one day the rays of sun will
Mean something again; that they’ll be
Able to relax our bones
But hope is only temporary now,
And it will vanish when the tabloids scream, “Kidding kissers in talkers
Burns up fans of screens
Best lovers."