I WISH I COULD BE A MOVIE STAR

I wish I could be a movie star,
Being photographed day after day.
My name in lights would be a delight,
In a huge big mansion I’d stay.

I’d bathe in milk, and drink Champagne,
Eat caviar, and the best fillet steak.
I’d spend hours swimmin’ with naked women,
Somewhere abroad, in a lake.

And the director would shout out ACTION!
In my first film, I would play a mad nut.
I’d chop someone up with a cleaver,
And the director would then shout out CUT!

When not at home, I’d stay in hotels,
Only the best that money could buy.
I’d have the penthouse on the eightieth floor,
Where the roof would be touching the sky.

Everyone would want to shake my hand,
Tell me I’m great and a wonderful chap.
I’d go on a chat-show to plug my book,
Where I’ll say that it’s great to be back.



And the director would shout out, ACTION!
In one of my flicks I would play a big mutt.
I’d have to dress up like an Alsatian,
And the Director would then shout out, CUT!

I’d have to spend hours reading my lines,
To be word perfect for my first day on set.
I’d have to buy one of these holders,
In which to insert my cigarette.

And I’d have to say ‘Daling’, lots of times,
And throw the odd tantrum at will.
I’d have to become a chronic alcoholic,
And knock back the occasional pill.

And the Director would shout out, ACTION!
In one film I’d play a fat slut.
I’d have wear a set of false boobies,
And the Director would then shout out, CUT!

I’d have to get some mates together,
Mostly white, but also one black.
We’d be in the papers, (Great publicity,)
And call ourselves the ‘Brat Pack’




Hours I’d have to spend in make-up,
As they applied the cement with a trowel.
But when they started to pluck my eyebrows
I’d hit the ceiling and let out a howl.

And the Director would yell out, ACTION!
In my best film I would play a mans hut.
They’d cover me over with planks of wood,
And the Director would then shout out CUT!

Maybe I would manage to win an Oscar,
For that film where I once played a sheep.
I’d pretend I didn’t know that I had won,
And on the stage, I’d break down and weep.

And I’d thank everyone for all they had done,
Even the lad who made us the tea.
My speech would last just over an hour,
Only ending when I needed a pee.

Then the Director would shout out CUT!
He’d be pulling his hair in a rage.
“Go to the adverts, right this minute!!
“And get that silly bugger off of the stage!!! “