What's Gonna Happen

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!