A myriad of lights flick on the silver screen.
A fun factory story, a Hollywood dream.
The film's title role for the A-lister I am
Fame and fortune captured in the film-makers can,
Alone on an island, from a wreck out at sea,
I deliver my lines, while I think of my fee
The director's been tough, and the filming's been hard
I check my named star on Hollywood Boulevard
Reading the critics in the variety mags
Errol Flynn's latest movie isn't doing too bad
Yet mine, when released, will be a box-office smash
I'll floor those has-beens into the dirt with a crash
Back to the office, and answer the fan mail I get
With a signed fancy photo of me on the set
Then a surprise soiree, for me, the movie star,
Arriving nonchalantly in an open-topped car,
Reality strikes; my boss pokes me in my ribs
"Start living in the truth boy, stop dreaming your fibs"
"Your coffee time is over; get working again"
My Oscar dissolves and becomes my pen again
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