If up until today you aren\'t famous
And if it looks like you will never be,
If friends and lovers say to you: \"You\'ve shamed us\".
By not becoming crowds\' adoree,
If you remain unknown, strange and nameless,
And others get the masses\' accolades,
Rejoice my child in being pure and blameless
And not becoming part of their charades.
Fame is ephemeral and somewhat like a bubble;
It blows up and bursts when time is up;
Fame also brings us jealousy and trouble,
And evil gossips fill its golden cup.
Fame puts you in the limelight, thus exposing
Your secret faults to scrutinizing eyes
Of persons who just revel in disclosing
What lies beneath your glamorous disguise.
You also can become a favored target,
Of predatory litigation sharks,
Who love to use on you their legal argot,
In unison with judges\' angry barks.
For some inane and outlandish reason,
A jealous hanger-on can sue you dry;
Among your \"friends\" so many practice treason,
Conspiring and scheming on the sly.
Your every movement is no longer private,
As stalkers, papparazzis and the kind,
Try to observe, record, and later, file it,
To have you slandered, libeled and maligned.
Who needs the headaches of such grand ambitions?
I\'d rather be a noiseless Mr. X.
This way, devoid of guilt and inhibitions,
I can enjoy all kinds of booze and s*x.
