by Nick Gisburne
This handsome, rugged, dreamy, blue-eyed boy
Is not the model citizen you think
The pressures of publicity destroy
The worst of us, with glamour, drugs and drink
I long to be unusual in this
But here I sit, the guru of decay
Accepting dimes and dollars for a kiss
Unhappy when the girls refuse to pay
And what is life beyond the wall, the screen?
A lonely, cold existence, starved of light
A shadow of the man I might have been
I wrap myself in all the sins of night
Perhaps you see the promise of a dream
But I am not the hero that I seem
