Youíre too vain, youíre insane
You think the world will stop turning
ĎCause you ainít around

Blind eyes, cheap lines You got the whole band playing But you donít hear the sound Your venom pen Will never poison me I wonít be sticking round that long
Corina, whatís this talk of glory Between the sheets in halls of fame Corina, just a hard luck story Bratpack fever Running through your brain
Your fast cars, rock stars You were seen at the party But you werenít even there
False name, the same game Somebodyís minding your business You donít even care You think itís all Some kind of circus ride You think that someoneís Keeping score