beyonce in vienna
beyonce is in vienna
she’s on every block actually
spinning on ads for bikinis at the h&m
plastered on to the sides of buildings that are
over four hundred years old
she looks good for someone so well-traveled
fit and golden
worth her millions for sure
even though she’s overshadowing mozart’s statue
in the burggarten
but wolfy i guess that’s the price you pay
for hanging around some three hundred years
and strangling this city with your genius
people get sick of you
you get overshadowed at times
by some american pop princess
with her tits and ass hanging out for everyone to see
beyonce outside the albertina
beyonce watching over the museums quartier
without a thought for egon schiele
too bad they didn’t have that kind of marketing
back in your day, my man
i mean just picture it
you and constanze on some yacht in the mediterranean
your music pumping out of each and every car
the global adulation
the paparazzi hiding along the ballgasse for a candid shot
the packed stadiums and arenas
more millions than you could blow
on clothing and whores and gambling
all of the opulence with none of the guilt
plus scientology instead of the freemasons
your genius on a reality show to be voted on weekly
by the masses
those luscious corporate sponsorship dollars
a picture of you in your underwear
plastered in times square
or just one ad hocking good wine in neon
somewhere on the piccadilly in london
the great mozart pushing pepsi
instead of beyonce scantily clad in canary yellow
blocking the view from belvedere mansion
no more wigs just a ballcap cocked to the side
but time is a bitch wolfgang
it serves none of us well
plus i don’t think i’d like it
if you were trying to sell me a watch or some stale beer
and, of course, we all know that when beyonce croaks
it’ll be a global days of mourning for her
her shitty music will play from continent to continent
in america they’ll hang the flags at half-mast
and the president will give a speech at her gilded grave
the one overlooking the fresh brush fires near los angeles
because if we’ve learned nothing else, wolfy
in the two hundred and twenty-two years that you’ve been
gone
it’s that we treat our celebrities well in life and in death
even when the rest of us are starving
we sure as hell
don’t bury them in pauper’s graves
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