I know what's gonna happen
I'll try to go to bed
With fear of failure
I'll sleep for half an hour
The clock will ring at six
I'll wake up in the shower with a stomach full of bricksflapping
Like a fruit bad in my head
So I won't have any breakfast
Maybe just a little tea
Like when you have to go
And get a colonoscopy
Which incidentally isn't half
As disconcerting or upsetting
As going for a part you know
There is no way that you are getting
But anyway I'm heading downtown for the audition
Where everything I'm dreading will be coming to fruition
And here's what's gonna happen
I'll walk in weak with hunger
And there's a dozen girls
Who look like me but ten years younger
I'll go into the bathroom
And I'll try to vocalize
And I'll be signing
But I'll be hearing Sandy sucks
She really sucks, she really, really, really blows
And she's old, and she's lame
And then someone calls my name
And here's what happens
I'll walk into the room
The gross fluorescent lightning is inviting as a tomb
And everybody smiles, they'll say its good to see ya
But all I see is judges
And they'll all look like Scalia
And then a little banter as they look me up and down
And somewhere through the fog of insecurity and hate
I'll try to convince them that I'm charming
And I'm clever and I'm fun to have around
But I'm starting to unravel, in my head I hear the gavel
Guilty!
They're gonna throw the book at me 'cause I'm
Guilty!
Of coming in and wasting all their time
Guilty!
Of almost every other showless crime
Not young enough!
Not thin enough!
Not pretty enough!
Not good enough!
We hereby sentence you to a lifetime of waiting tables and debilitating self-loathing
But wait no someone's asking
So can we hear your voice?
I make a lame attempt at humor, do I have a choice?
I nod at the pianist, he's always wearing black
He's always in a turtleneck with dandruff on his back
No sooner do I get my note
And open up my trap
Then inevitably some mealy-mouthed assistant director's
Thumbs are all over his iPhone
And I know he's probably tweeting
LOL, this girl is crap
She's a fake
She's a phony
She could never win a Tony
And now I'm in a place I know quite well
I've left the world and I've entered hell
I'm this far away from a fainting spell
But just before I die
I finish a song
Which I oversell
Somebody says thanks
And wishes me well
The next thing I know
I'm at Tacobell
Stuffing my face with meat
I'm trying to take it slowly
I'm trying to be my best
I'm trying to be more holy
Less bitter and depressed
I'm reading Eckhart Tolle
He makes a lot of sense
I bought a Buddhist bowl
He says he it helps you be less tense
It doesn't do a thing for me
I sit there on the floor
I watch a vivid sequence
Of humiliating instances from my past go by
And think what kind of masochist
Keeps coming back for more
But you know what's gonna happen
'Cuz it never doesn't happen
It's gonna always, always, always
No! I know what's gonna happen
Don't tell me that I don't
I know I say I'll rise up to
The occasion but I won't
And don't say I've got talent
And don't say I've got heart
And don't say that I'm clever
'Cuz I know I'm pretty smart
I'm smart enough to know
That I'm too stupid to admit
You can't survive a diet
That consists of eating shit
The trick is knowing when it's time to pack your bags
And say, that's it!
You know what's gonna happen
I know what's gonna happen
Here's what's gonna happen
I quit!
I quit!
I quit!
