While Hollywood sleeps,
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A young man is dying
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On the concrete of a sidewalk downtown.
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As his brother weeps,
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The sirens come calling
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And the medics feed him lines on the ground.
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Run, river, run...
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The director speaks,
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The cameras are rolling.
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A boy steps between the backdrop and the lights.
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And he's stealing the scene,
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With the crew as his witness.
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The whole industry will judge him come academy night
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Now the tabloids will say what they want to,
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And the cameras will re-enact his fall.
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His legacy speaks, but no one can hear it,
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'Cause his death has made critics of us all.
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His legacy speaks
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In the canister rooms,
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In the archives of great studio halls.
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And there it will keep like a secret that's whispered between lovers
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And those who never knew him at all.
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-----------------
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River
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| Ellis Paul |
