Isn’t it strange how it all happens? All my life, I dreamed of the bright lights of the big city. You know, they tell you it’s gonna be glamorous, and they tell you that you’ll have everything. They tell you you’re lucky. But no one tells you how lonely it’s gonna be. And they don’t tell you, when you’re twirling in front of the mirror as a child, what the papers are gonna say about you someday.
'Cause they don't tell you that they're building you up just to try and knock you down.
But they haven’t yet.