Be-decked with Nikon necklaces hear the Paparazzi cries. Under their noses walk the famous in disguise. They've got their crayons out to colour in the book. Cos it's a story. Now someone's cut the lines communication's down.
All photo film is fogged.
Celebrities surround and jab their fingers at me. Even poor Paparazzi must have privacy as well. Well, there has to be some better way to turn back the night, spin on to yesterday. Don't think I'll be coming down. Screened for a stable mate with nerves of ice we flew, at apogee.