She didn't watch the movie she just ate the Greasy popcorn and listened to the couples kiss And run in and out of the theater The price she pays to soak her fingers in The butter drain her strength into the gutter is Two odd hours behind bars But she lives alone and the familiar scent Of her apartment was suffocating So sitting like a watched pot she's sticking out Like a sour thumb Tonight the screen seems very Hot and she is not so young Hollywood, what are you good for? The terminal Pop icons are dropping off Teen idols collapse on the sidewalk The breakfast club is underground and an Ambulance is making rounds through You can take a vow of silence and wake up an Appliance with tubes and neadles and antennas In case you don't feel embarrassed Hear the smattering of applause while they're gathering some gauze They say whether you've got cash to burn or not A little crash will earn you a spot in the weekly reader And intention is important if you want a shot at Redemption but don't tell them you feel nothing If you want a shot of morphine Scar tissue is repugnant but it doesn't turn Teenager's stomachs It just makes you seem a Little wiser They think you need a broader Shoulder to cry on So the stars fall into the street as they leave the Hospital with no blood left in their cheeks only Junk in their mail Hollywood, what are you good for? A funeral