There’s three ways to burn out a star
Call home and tell your mother you’re doing okay
But you won’t be home for Chirstmas
Tell her the dress she bought you wrinkled
So you cut up the edges with broken glass
Ask her to save your pay stubs in the spare bedroom
With the wedding ring you never could sell
Tell her she’s beautiful despite the lighting because the bulb is in your throat anyway

There’s two ways to burn out a star
Take your roommate out for coffee
Order one thing the cashier likes and another the manager hates
Tell your roommate you couldn’t decide what he’d like best
Ask him about the first time he saw an accident
Ask him if he saw the dog
And if he didn’t you show him where it hurts you most
Right under your navel where that filament got stuck

There’s one way to burn out a star
Leave a voicemail for yourself asking where you’ve gone to
And where did you put all of the towels
Make a fuss about a dinner party
Leave your phone on the bench and put on dark glasses
Walk away slowly while stripping off your clothes
Head into the sea