Why is it all these fakers Seem to make the morning papers? They're selling records by the million, seems so easy in my opinion Look at the Jazz Star, he really needs some guts Playing from seven to midnight, surviving on peanuts Selling records by the dozen Probably sold his tenor to make 'em With artwork designed by his brother And liner notes by his mother Told what to do, miming to a tape While a team of experts make sure you're looking great Taking a limo to your own private bar My God! I want to be a popstar! Going to get on the T.V and go on dates with only the pretty Maybe next year I'll pretend to be gay I'll sell some more records in a flash that way Makes no difference if i look like a nut Every kid in the world is going to copy my haircut I'll advertise some trainers, maybe even a car Shrewd product placement will gurantee I'm a star An ugly guy will write my songs Surley there is nothing wrong Retiring when I'm 22 With a house a car and nothing to do Instantaneous satisfaction it will be Got no need for artistic credibility With this attitude I'm pretty sure to go far My God! I want to be a popstar! Maybe its too easy, to move so quickly so far I want to be a popstar! Where's the middle ground? It's hard to make a living with you own true sound What road am I going to tread? What the hell would i do instead? There may be no tours in Roma, or a drug-induced designer coma No teenage girls when show is over, I prefer my women older Maybe I don't know what I'm talking about Sometimes it would be nice to play a place and sell out Driving to a gig in my brand new sports car My God! I want to be a popstar! I want to be a popstar! Maybe its too easy, to move so quickly so far Who wants to be a popstar?
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