Better Things - Baby Lemonade

Compensation for the little man

Just ain’t what it used to be

Hillside lounge at the edge of town

A breathing man you’d swear was dead

He’s alone — in smoke that turns to stone

He lives a lie

Sailing sunsets on a carbon heart

Can burn away just like your dreams

Underpaid and you can’t get laid

A meteoric fall from grace

Have you any secrets to share

For bailing out when you were scared

Image is not enough

I know there’s better things

There’s a man who lives in Hollywood

And he don’t know his time is gone

Seems just fine while he blows his mind

But that don’t count when you can’t score

He’s around — a ghost in his ghost town

He will shine no more