What holy cities are to nomadic tribes - a symbol of race and a bond of union - great books are to the wandering souls of men: they are the Meccas of the mind.

G.E. Woodberry

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King of Hollywood
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Ca sĩ: Eagles
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Well he sits up there on his leatherette
And looks through pictures of the ones
that he hasn't had yet
When he thinks he wants a closer look
He gets out his little black telephone book
 
(He's calling)
(He's calling)
(He's calling)
(He's calling)
 
Come sit down here beside me honey
Let's have a little heart to heart
Now look at me and tell me darlin'
How badly do you want this part?
 
Are you willing to sacrifice
And are you willing to be real nice
All that talent and my good taste
I'd hate to see it go to waste
 
We gon' get you an apartment, honey
We gon' get you a car
Yeah, we gon' take care of you, darlin'
We gon' make you a movie star
 
For years I've seen 'em come and go
He says, "I've had 'em all, ya know"
I handled everything in my own way
I made 'em what they are today
 
After 'while, nothing was pretty
After 'while, everything got lost
Still, his jacuzzi runneth over
Still, he just couldn't get off
 
He's just another power junky
Just another silk-scarf monkey
You'd know it if you saw his stuff
The man just isn't big enough