What's Wro

Lost in a strange city, no where to turn
Far cry from the streets that I came from
It can get lonely when you're trav'ling hard
But you can even be lonely
Standin' in your own backyard

Nobody knows the existential dread
Of the things that go on inside someone else's head
Whether it be trivial or something that Dante said
But baby, nobody knows the meaning of loneliness

No matter how well ya know someone
You can only ever guess
How can you ever really know somebody else?
It takes more than a lifetime
Just to get to know yourself
Nobody knows the meaning of loneliness

(Instrumental & sax)

I have to say a word about solitude
For the soul it sometimes, they say can be good
And I'm partial to it myself, and well I must confess
Nobody knows the meaning of loneliness

Well, it's Satra and Camu
Neitche and Hess
If ya dig deep enough you're gonna end
Up in distress
And no one escapes havin' to live life
Under duress
And no one escapes the meaning of loneliness

Well, they say keep it simple
When it gets to be a mess
And fame and fortune
Never brought anyone happiness

I must be lucky, some of my friends think
That I'm really blessed
Nobody knows the meaning of loneliness



No-no-no-no-no-no
Nobody knows the meaning of loneliness

No-no, no-ooh body knows the meaning of loneliness

Nobody knows the meaning of loneliness.

Whoa-oh, fame
They're takin' ev'rything an' twistin' it
Whoa-oh, 'fame' they're sayin'
Yeah, I never could have resisted it
What's in a name
And ev'rybody's jadded by fame

Whoa, fame again
The press has gone an' made another mess of it
Ho-oh, just because they've got so much invested in it
But they say you're to blame, it's your own fault
'Cause you've got mixed up in fame

Whoa, no don't believe all that
Old Andy Warhol guff!
It takes a lot more than ten or fiften minutes
That's just not enough
To qualifiy you for fame

Ya went beyond the boundaries of sanity
And ev'ryday you defy all the laws of gravity
Ya ain't got no shame
'Cause you're just addicted to fame

Alright

(Instrumental and guitar)

Whoa no, don't ya buy
None of that old Andy Warhol stuff-a
It takes a lot more than ten or fifteen minutes
That's just not enough
To qualify you for fame

They're already settin' up your own Watergate
Whoa-oh, fame
That stalker out there is just filled with hate
You'll never be the same
'Cause ev'rybody's corrupted by fame

Whoa-oh-oh-oh, fame
You took away all my humanity
Oh-oh, fame
Got to fight ev'ry second of the day for my dignity
You're suspectator's game
And there ain't nothin' fair about fame

Do it again

Whoa-oh
(Fame)
Whoa-oh
(Fame)
Say it again

Whoa-oh
(Fame)
Say it again
Fame
(Fame)
They say you're to blame
'Cause you got mixed up in fame.