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BIG BLACK HOLE

I saw you on the cover of the Rolling Stone.
You’re a big star now, and you think you made it on your own.
They made you a princess, put you on top on a throne.
Fame can be fleeting, ephemeral and overblown.
But what do you know; you’re a child about half grown.

I know the story of how you got to be a star.
You were seen in a California coffee bar.
They liked your lips, your tits, your voice, and your guitar.
They put big bucks behind you; you’re gonna go far.
And you’ll forget who helped you get where you are.

Did they tempt you with the usual lures?
Record contracts, concert tours,
Fancy cars, designer clothes?
Guess where all the money goes.
Lawyer bills and agent fees,
Doctor bills and rehab fees.
They suck you dry, and they leave you in a big black hole.
It’s out of your control.

Now the press has a hold on you.
They sell what sells, and they’re sold on you.
But all that they admired of you
Will be dust when they grow tired of you.
First they’ll give a bad name to you,
And then they’ll ask what became of you.
They build you up, then they leave you in a big black hole.
It’s out of your control.

Maybe you’ll stay on top, a few of them do.
But your teenage sexpot look won’t get you through.
Your stuck-up face and your see-through blouse won’t do.
You do have a lot of talent, girl, it’s true.
But countless unknown souls have more than you.

Saranac Lake, New York, 1997
(Lyrics co-authored by John Mark Ramsey II)