Infamy is like charity
One's for the free and the other pity
Nobody can really see
these things that I seem to mean
Though really who can be
Seeing me if I don't show myself freely?
These things I do these things I say
Don't start up or go away
Always floating around my head
Next stop's not gonna be 'till after I'm dead
I don't understand these kind of changes
But that won't stop my life's rearranges
No one feels the rich like they feel poor
No one seems to know anyone anymore
All these faces, all these falls
All these places, all these walls
On top of these things are southern drawls
That never seem to to fill the calls
Never once have I seen the sights
Always been too busy with my private fights
Can't think how to rhyme this right
So I guess I'll stay up all night
My words don't pull at anyone's strings
So no one hears my poems ring
No one can call throughout the day
Or have these ideas, they're all stray
Right now these feelings are all to heinous
Guess I'll just stay almost famous