Your soul’s up for auction, no known reserve,
Blank out the people, hold your nerve.
Shoot stares, shoot the breeze
laugh along with the latest web wheeze.
You never meant it to get to this,
news, cameras, commentary axis.
Money. Your demons want it more than you
sell yourself for your Jimmy Choos
they are more you than you.
Kiss your children, sell your eggs
make the tabloids, shag the dregs.
It’s not your style but now what’s left
but hammer down and the devil’s cleft.
Sell your hole and sell your soul
make your price and pay your toll.
