Everyone wants to be part of the scenenSee themselves pretty in a magazinenSo when my life did read just like a booknOut of corners and cracks they came to looknnAnd that's the story from the years that camenEveryone wants to be part of the shamenWhat a tragedy, what a glamorous scenenWrite it in a book or a magazinennOpen up to read about a murdernLook at the pretty lipstick shadesnAnd that's just how you met your Frank SinatranOn the paper thin walls of a magazinennPicked up and paid fornBut who knows what you're really bound to benYou put the pages on the mirrornAnother sob story but it will never fill you up just like the waynYou always hoped it was bound to benWho are you?nnDream a dream she looks like MadonnanOr find a Jesus of your ownnSomething different, just made for your covernNo religion is fit for a magazinennPicked up and paid fornBut who knows what you're really bound to benYou put the pages on the mirror (you'll never measure up to that)nAnother sob story but it will never fill you up just like the waynYou always hoped it was bound to benWho are you?nnSo you read it in a magazinennAnd I had seen the things I'd never dreamnRead it in a book, or a magazine