Robbie Williams – Come Undone
Escapology
From the sweet, innocent, southern youngster to the jaded, arrogant, southern adult. Oh how the music industry changes you. One moment you’re signing and dancing to parents, the next thrusting your groin to masses of underage girls. There’s the public image and the private life. Butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth, but you’d sure as hell use if to smear all over someone if you felt like it.
So unimpressed but so in awe
Such a saint but such a whore
So self aware so full of shit
So indecisive so adamant
I'm contemplating thinking about thinking
It's overrated just get another drink and
Watch me come undone
Another party, another appearance. What do you do when your band mates have left you to pursue their own careers. You go out there and you make yourself known, get your face in the papers, on the internet, maybe that movie mogul will give you a ring, maybe not if they’ve seen ‘On the Line’. You pick up easy lays, you pick up a few diseases.
Then the phone call comes. They’re ready to get back together. Suddenly, your life has meaning again, they tell you. Suddenly you’re back to having to do what someone says. No more drinking, no more drugs. No more parading around in kilts and make up, fuelling the rumours about your sexuality again. Excuse me people, but there was a woman with her bare ass on the stage too. People really do worry you sometimes.
They expect you to be happy though, to have your freedom taken away from you again.
They're selling razor blades and mirrors in the street
I pray that when I'm coming down you'll be asleep
If I ever hurt you your revenge will be so sweet
Because I'm scum, and I'm your son,
I come undone
I come undone
You find it difficult fitting back into the group. You’ve been places they’ll never be, you’ve seen things, experienced things they’ll never have too, or want too. You feel smarter, more world-wise. Especially when it comes to Justin. The GoldenBoy – copyright Lynn Harless.
His ‘management team’ are pushing him, pushing him more than they did during Celebrity. You feel like screaming at them, pointing out that JC has the adult demographic, that he actually sold more albums than Justin did, because most 25-40 year old women don’t know how to download music, they find it easier to throw the cd in with the weekly shopping from the supermarket.
You want to tell them that Joey is popular too, that people don’t even realise that he’s in a pop group. Roll with his popularity. You want to tell them to use you. That you have muscles and a six pack stomach now too. Let them put you at the front of the pictures with your shirt off. It doesn’t always have to be Justin. You hate Justin.
So rock and roll, so corporate suit
So damn ugly, so damn cute
So well-trained, so animal
So need your love, so fuck you all
I'm not scared of dying
I just don't want to
If I'd stop lying I'd just disappoint you
I come undone
You keep your mouth shut though, that’s what you’ve always done. You keep your mouth shut and sing only the bits that you’re handed. You accept them gracefully, pleased that you actually have a small, one line, solo. That’s more than Chris has. Justin wants all the high bits now.
JC can understand the difference between soloJC and nsyncJC. He’s not a problem. He’s focused on what he’s doing now. Justin though, he wants to be the star still, and the only star in *NSYNC is the one at the beginning of the name, they all follow that one.
So you stay quiet.
So write another ballad
Mix it on a Wednesday
Sell it on a Thursday
Buy a yacht by Sunday
It's a love song
A love song
Do another interview
Sing a bunch of lies
Tell about celebrities that I despise
And sing love songs
We sing love songs
So sincere
So sincere
You can’t stay quiet all your life though, and when you blew, continents shook. You had to do it on live tv didn’t you? The PR crew couldn’t even edit it out. You know it’s going to be number 1 next time vh1 do ‘100 most shocking moments in pop’. You don’t even know what set you off, all you remember is flying across the couch and your fist landing in Justin’s mouth.
It took 3 security guards to get him off you. It took 3 months for Justin’s jaw to heal. He didn’t press charges, thank goodness. You’ve got punishment enough though, sitting here, singing to yourself, thinking over your life.
There’s not much else to do here, in St. Bart’s Hospital for the Mentally Impaired.
Number of reviews: 1
Print:
