All my carefully measured metaphor
All my flat nine dominant seven chords
All of my schtick, my lyrical trickery
All those bows, all that applause

All my intertextuality
All my self-aware hypocrisy
All of those rhymes, those irregular times
All my softly spoken sophistry

All my makeup, all my lights
All my photoshoots in tights
All my pretentions, all my intentions
All my glitzy opening nights

All my brow-dependent jokes
All my mirrorballs and smoke
All my tilts at wit and wimsy
All my poetry, my swearwords, and my smut

Will never get as many hits as
'Kitten Waking Up'