The Dustbins of the Stars
So what is in the dustbins
Of the famous and the shameless
That the fellow who invades them
Should be charged and yet be nameless?
And why should they be nervous
All these shining ones who serve us
When it's garbage that we bay for
And have been content to pay for?
Among the champagne cases
And the broken bits of basses
Could be anything from dog-ends
To a member of Oasis
An ancient Floyd inflatable
A pop star who's un-datable
But bigger, if he'd made it,
Than The Beatles (it's debatable).
The torn and faded pages
Of a contract's early stages
Where the company, hereafter
Known as Profits, Seers & Sages
Undertook to pay the piper
Half the money that they owed him
If he led the rats and children
To the outlets that they showed him
And what is in these dustbins
Of the famous and important
That the law should smite the scavenger
Who scrabbles where he oughtn't?
A portrait of the artist
Which they dragged out of an attic
When his songs got formulaic
Or he jammed on automatic?
One thing that's for certain
There'll be nothing that you think
Since they never throw out anything
Like money, drugs or drink
But if it isn't rubbish.
Which is something that I doubt
What are they so frightened of
And why'd they throw it out?Reuse content