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Lou Reed - N.y.stars

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N.y.stars

The stock is empty in our eyeball store
All we got left, a few cataracts and sores
The faggot mimic machine never had an ides
Mission impossible, they self destruct on fear
On a standard n.y. night ghouls go to see their so called 'starsA fairly stupid thing, to pay five bucks for a 4th rate imitation

They say:' i'm so empty, no surface, no depth
Oh please, can't i be you, your personality's so great.Like new buildings, square, tall and the same
Sorry, miss stupid, didn't you know it was a game
I'm just waiting for them to hurry up and die
It's really getting to crowed here
Help me n.y. stars

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Remember, we're very good at games
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