You longed to be known and famous.
It happened and now you’re not sure.
The paparazzi are calling
You’re not quite sure what it’s for.
You don’t want them knowing your business
You don’t want the fuss anymore.
The trappings of fame are perfidious
You wish you were once more obscure.
You can’t put the cork in the bottle
The good life is starting to pall.
The eyes of the world are upon you
You wish you could hide from it all.