еще один английский стих того же периода... тоже про него... мне кажется у него могли быть такие мысли

spotlight is so bright - it's pinprick in my brain
lying on the scene just can't close my eyes
water filling me, not a tear, it's rain
they buried me before they praised me to the skies

think through, think twice before you doing something wrong
they're waiting with envy, bad temper or mistake?
i wish i spit to them: have u been waiting long?
it's me - court jester, king, false Jesus, only fake

Why curiosity attracting them to me?
Because i'm not like them - bloodsuckers, freaks, weaklings
shut off the crowd, alone, i know before i leave
last words i'll hear will be: KING DIED. LONG LIVE THE KING!!!

__________________
In grunge we trust