HEY MRS AVERAGE – letter from a recovering narcissist

 
 You’re nothing special you’re not so great
 Take a look at yourself now you’re not off your face
 Old Aunt Mediocrity knocks at your door
 It’s starting to look like you were a fraud
  
 You saw yourself through the drugs and the booze
 The Goddess of Folk, Queen of the Blues
 But you fell with a thud from the top of the bill
 And there’s no round of applause in your bottle of pills
  
 Hey Mrs Average, reality’s savage 
 It’s ugly and cold and it’s mean
 You’re not legend-ary or  extraordin-ary 
 It’s time to let go of your dreams
  
 For one so amazing, you’re very secluded
 Could it really be, that you were deluded?
 Nobody messages nobody phones
 You’re not so wonderful, when you’re alone
  
 Those tipsy admirers who followed you ‘round
 Have gone very quiet, where are they now?
 And why should they be here? You weren’t there for them
 They were only your audience you had no friends
  
 Open your eyes, the fantasy’s over
 You can’t lie to yourself now that you’re sober
 Drop the pretence it’s the final frontier 
 and welcome to being NORMAL my dear
  
 Jump into the moment brush off the stardust
 The life ordin-ary is the one that’s the hardest
 Put your fat ego back up on the shelf
 You’re just the same now as everyone else