River

While Hollywood sleeps
A young man is dying
On the concrete of a sidewalk downtown
As his brother weeps
The sirens come calling
And the medics feed him lines on the ground
Run, river, run…
The director speaks
The cameras are rolling
A boy steps between the backdrop and the lights
And he’s stealing the scene
With the crew as his witness
The whole industry will judge him come academy night
Now the tabloids will say what they want to
And the cameras will re-enact his fall
His legacy speaks, but no one can hear it
'Cause his death has made critics of us all
His legacy speaks
In the canister rooms
In the archives of great studio halls
And there it will keep like a secret that’s whispered between lovers
And those who never knew him at all