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Michael McGuire
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Something Called It
She looked like the stranger's mother on the cover of her homemade cd,
With a look that could see the promised land and eyes that could barely see,
Something like a pout in reverse seem to say please,
Maybe her photographer's five hundred dollar fee didn't include any cheese.
She's determined to have her little piece of something called it.
He jotted down a couple of lines that resembled common sense,
He was pretty sure he had an idea so he must be a qualified genius,
He had a dream of the footlights tingle; the smell of vomit and champagne,
His contract was written in the stars; a natural talent just like acid rain.
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He gets together with the boys in the band and they rehearse their bit,
They don't talk much about making music just about making something called it.
She was just another one in a billion beauty working for the Gap,
Now she's just the ninth dime in a dozen on some fat cat's lap,
How could this be a dream come true when the dream felt much more real,
You have to expect to break a few teeth when you're willing to beg, borrow or kill.
When they turn the stirrings of your soul into another piece of shit,
You'll be staring straight into the jaws of something called it.
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