Made for the Stage
Danger is a very rare commodity in these times, monopolized by intelligence agencies and stuntmen.
The world is filled with people too scared to get out of their comfort zones, yet those of us who actually take advantage of what we’ve been given and use it to the best of our abilities are called the crazy ones.
No, what’s crazy is sitting in a house trying to be safe and surviving for 100 years without truly living for one.
You and me, Crash, we’re different than the ones complacent to watch tv night in and night out. We’re cut from the same courageous cloth, the difference is how we use our risk-taking ability to entertain the masses.
You’re like Evel Knievel, a man willing to try any stunt to get his name up in lights. One of your stunts will have crowds coming out of the woodwork to see what happens. They don’t care whether to succeed in the stunt or pass away. Either way it’s a story for them.
It was going to be entertaining whatever happened, he would blow you away with his skill or crash and burn his way through the history books. After all, he broke more bones than anyone else in this world.
Yet, a stunt isn’t what killed him, no, it was a standard way of passing, no stunt to immortalize him, simply a respiratory disease that had him dying alone. Forgotten when he couldn’t give the world what they wanted to see.
The reason you’re like him is because every day you’re gone and away from performing a new stunt, the world forgets you more and more, one day you won’t even be able to walk and you’ll wish as he had that your namesake had taken you away not the killer that takes away the fearful ones who never risked a thing in their whole lives.
I didn’t stay on this stage for long but my moment in the sun will be remembered long after I pass.
Because it wasn’t one stunt and done, you can go home.
People watched me for hours, day after day, and night after night.
They would see me multiple times and walk away pleased every time.
What I’m saying Crash is you’re the one night stand, I’m the one that got away.
I’m the one on the marquee, you’re the one at the end of the credits where every other no name stunt actor goes.
I’m the one they’ll bring home, you’re the pity fuck she doesn’t want to think about.
Because the difference between you and me is that while we both do stunts, I give them a story, I make them care about it, and I do that multiple times in one show.
They applaud multiple times spending a night with me.
They’re just waiting for you to finish your stunt.
You should feel lucky we’ll have this performance together because we shouldn’t be on the same stage, after all, you’re nothing more than an opening act.
I’m the reason they buy the ticket.