Out Of Reach

So this one is fairly self explanatory. I've always wanted fame, it's just the way I am. But in this one I tried to allow a lot of ego out, and was inspired a lot by Eminem for this one, hence a lot of name-dropping and stuff, which I've never done before. It's also one of the longest I've written; 768 words.

This life of mine is just a game, and I’ma use it to obtain fame, 

‘Cause I don’t wanna be the same, the same feels so lame, 

And this mind frame of mine just doesn’t feel fine, 

I want shrines of me, lights on me, 

Fights about me, so just give me the key,

And I’ll leave this normal life ‘cause it’s obscene, 

I’m not keen to live without a limelight, 

Without reaching heights with a mind this bright, 

Fly me like a kite and watch me get on Brand’s level, 

Walking on beaches of sand and money, 

No more feeling bland but feeling grand,

People running my errands, having my own little Stans, 

Hordes of fans, spitting at those who doubted me, 

Working with Eminem to say ‘fuck them’,

Become a national gem, walking through halls of fame, 

In this little game of mine without shame. 

It’s hard sat within four walls, waiting on phone calls, 

Feeling my heart fall not feeling so tall, 

Not going to fancy balls with princesses sucking my balls, 

Not having fast cars picking me up taking me to the best bars,

With fucking rockstars like that little Lars, 

Not writing my signature or sitting on expensive furniture, 

I want to see into the future and see if my efforts are futile, 

And if they are then that’s just brutal, 

Everything would seem so pointless, I’d turn more reckless,

Wear a noose like a fucking necklace, ‘cause I feel I’m a template, 

Like an empty slate, waiting to be filled by fame,

I hope it’s not too late, ‘cause at this rate,

The more I wait the more I hate this life of mine, n’, 

Rhymin’ about this feelin’ that’s stealin’ my compassion, 

N’, turning it to aggression and self-obsession, 

Should I learn my lesson? Or keep missin, keep skippin’ that class, 

Live life fast until someone casts the spell of fame on me? 

Shame on me? Don’t point the blame at me.

Do I keep writing music? 

Will it make me lose it, make me confused? 

It, was what I always wanted, to play guitar to millions, 

Be a shred star to the hellions, 

Writing bitching riffs making people itching to dance in kitchens, 

In stadiums, playing the fucking London Palladium with my superstardom, 

To kill the boredom,

Taking MDMA at the MTV VMAs, 

I’ve got Cobain’s DNA, I’ll flip off that Kanye, 

Shout a Hetfield ‘Yeah’, make people go insane, 

Write songs like Dave Mustaine, 

Amaze audiences like David Blaine, 

Shake hands with Michael Caine ‘cause I’ll blow the bloody doors off, 

People will be like moths to my light, 

I’ll be known amongst chavs and goths, EVH and David Lee Roth, 

The shitting prime minister and even the Queen, 

I’ll have sex like Charlie Sheen, 

Never become a ‘has-been’, 

This was my dream since before I was a teen. 

Do I keep making people laugh? 

Will that quench my wrath, the more I stand up in Bath, 

Will the crowd become more than just the staff? Am I even funny? 

It started off so warm and sunny, had a good feeling in my tummy, 

Like I swallowed something yummy without making nostalgia, 

Will I say: “I told ya”?

I could nurture this act to become massive, that was my objective, 

But the insults got so repetitive, constant and aggressive, 

Kids behind keyboards cuddling their mummy’s cunts, 

Cumming in their Carlsberg cans counting kills on crappy console games, 

Clutching their controllers, drinking Coronas on their own, 

Crafting insults they couldn’t say to my face,

If this was a race to being more than just little boys, 

I’d be the hare and they'd be a dead tortoise. 

Listen to my voice, little boys, my voice is talking not yours, little boys, 

I’m important, you’re worthless, little boys, 

Now go play with your toys little boys, 

“Ahoy! Land ahead, now jump and drown, little boys”.

I want everything but it’s out of reach, 

I’m out at sea but I can’t see the beach,

What I feel I can’t teach, it’s just how my head ticks,

I shit bricks out of fear I won’t get kicks anymore,

Stuck in a ditch, such a whiny little bitch, 

Got loads but I've not got what, where, which I want,

It daunts me, haunts me, sometimes fucking taunts me,

It wraps round my head like a chain that won’t let me free,

And what if I reach what’s so out of reach and I’m not happy with that?

I want everything but it’s out of reach, 

I’m out at sea but I can’t see the beach.