50,000 - Sting, Dave Audé

Another obituary in the paper today

One more for the list of those who’ve already fallen

Another one of our comrades is taken down

Like so many others of our calling

We tweet our anecdotes, our commentary

Or we sing his songs in some sad tribute

While the tabloids are holding a story of kiss and tell

That he’s no longer able to deny or refute

50,000 voices rising every time he’d sing

And every word he ever wrote reflecting back to him

How well I remember the stadiums we played

And the lights sweeping across a sea of 50,000 souls we’d face

A serious drug that you could never kick

Or one that you couldn’t imagine you’d ever replace

We flew like kites on the wings of amphetamine

Secured only to a bass line and a snare drum beat

But really what did any of it mean?

When there’s a higher philosophy in reflection and defeat

50,000 voices rising every time he’d sing

And every word he ever wrote reflecting back to him

Still believing that old lie, the one that your own face betrays

Rock Stars don’t ever die, they only fade away

Reflecting now on my own past

Inside this prison I’ve made of myself

I’m feeling a little better today

Although the bathroom mirror is telling me something else

These lines of stress, one bloodshot eye

The unhealthy pallor of a troubled ghost

Where did I put my spectacle case?

I’m half blind and as deaf as any post

50,000 hands are raised to a man that’s just like you and me

We create the gods we can and gift them immortality

Still believing that old lie, the one that your own face betrays

Rock Stars don’t ever die, they only fade away