Оригинален текст
Future star, red guitar, you're gonna go far if you find a right producer
The world's your toy, super boy, the girls all faint and you start a new religion
Four-star media wh*re backdoor encounters with Madonna, ahh ahh, ahh ahh
Sales fall, lose it all, the crowd moves on and you can't afford a limo, ahh ahh, ahh ahh
Ooh mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau
Ooh mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau
Ooh mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau
Ooh mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau
Pout and cry, fake suicide, then read a book About a past addiction
Tombstone, all you own, twenty years and no one will remember
Ooh mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau
Ooh mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau
Ooh mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau
Ooh mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau-mau