Too many secrets laid out for everyone to see,
She never did like to confess for things she'd done,
Working over-time, and still she's hounded,
And she thought that fame and fortune would be fun.
While in crowds, she claims she always feels alone,
The darkest dark has still yet to come,
She hates the prying dogs who come at her night and day,
She hates that she can trust no-one.
When she was a child, she would watch the old show-tunes,
She always did love to sing along.
She thought that life in Hollywood would be great and grand,
But it's just not the same old song.
She lies upon the dusty floor,
The careful placing of a knife,
Too much pressure always leads
to the ending of a life . . .
