Gold Star

[Verse 1]
Did'ya see the one about the busker, he got a
Big break signed to a label, yeah, and a
Man on the side of a highway exit with a
Golden voice made for the radio
And you’ve been working your way up the food chain
Shark versus tiger, man versus bear
Rise to the summit on your blood and tears
'Cause its all that you know and ever wanted

But did you know beggars on the street make
About fifty bucks a day more than you do
And you ended up in the red with the
Beers that you bought at your own show?

[Chorus]
Here is your gold star for effort, man
Keep soldiering on, just fight the good fight
Keep soldiering on, keep soldering on
Here is your gold star for effort, man
Just fight the good fight
Keep soldiering on, keep soldiering on, keep soldiering on

[Verse 2]
Did you see the one about the waitress, just got
Discovered by a big time director, or the
Woman at the mental hospital showing at the
MOMA or some other gallery
And you've been about to make it big for a while
Like twenty four months now and counting
But the money in the bank account is gone and your
Wallet is cartoon empty

And everyone asks you about the show
And they say that they’re gonna make it
But you played out to a house of ghosts
'Cause nobody followed through

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Did you see the one about the rapper, hat trick
Viral video, eggs over easy
Eight arm, guitar, sexy girls, with the
Come hither eyes and the ample rack
And you're just a humble fisherman's son
With a bright-eyed look and song in your heart
"You've got a shot at the big time son,"
They would say, back in your home town

But you don't wanna go Gangnam style
With a shit-eating grin and bear it
'Cause you've got a stupid sense of pride
And you fall for it every damn time

[Chorus]

[Verse 4]
Favorite son, and rapper slash actress
Triple-threat, dancer, musician, gut check
Talk smack, street tough, man of the people
But he’s never been to the ghetto
Back in the day with Dylan and the gang, and
New best buddies with Brooklyn, scenester
Composer, dilletante, shyster, hipster
Everybody knows that Dylan was the man

But you never listened to Blonde on Blonde
Or played guitar for the folk gods, and
You never knew enough names to drop them
Nonchalant and casual

[Chorus]