Hollywood Diary – Day one

The suburbs are gone

And these streets are bleeding

People beg and tell me to go back

Turn away, they say cause I'll only die

Still optimistic and still hopeful

Hollywood Diary – Day two

The suburbs are tucked in the back of my mind

Rats in my apartment are eating all of my food

Stuck here watching Bonanza re-runs

Sitting and doing nothing

Why am I here?
Maybe I was wrong

Only time will tell

Only time will tell

Hollywood Diary – Day three

The suburbs are on fire in my cerebral cortex

Champing at the bit just to get some work

Audition and applications are second-nature now

And everything is a machine

Everything is a machine

Clinking and clanking stopping and starting

But never really taking off

This engine is at a stall

Hollywood Diary – Day four

The suburbs are broken down and crumbling

As am I and it's only Thursday

I finally got the job I finally got a life

Not much of a life as an assistant ass-kisser

To some director who doesn't know my name

Making shitty big budget pictures that will only flop

No story, no substance, and nothing but a franchise

But I'm thinking of dollars and cents

Just to keep my teeth in my head

Just to keep a roof over my head

Hollywood Diary – Day four-hundred and thirty three

The suburbs are nothing but a distant memory 

The street I grew up on is a figment of my imagination

I have lost my self completely and I am gone

A shell of a person, a shell of a life

No love, no care, just dollars and cents

My art has become my business

My love has become my greed

Nothing is real and nothing matters anymore

I blame this place, as it is the poison that is in my veins

There's no peace for me unless I paint the wall with my brains