The Rider

I live a life Of outrageous extravagance From way up here Show my talent and elegance I have some weird peccadillos Stick 'em on the rider When I arrive I want some heel-clickers After my doughnut A couple of lip-lickers Moisturise them both Then slap 'em on the rider Woe is me I'll let you know when I'm ready to sing I can't exist Can't do my thing Without a brace of Super hot psycho-ologists Cover my back With a sincere apologist And where's the Dom? I know I wrote it in the rider Take me up in a Private elevator And don't forget to book a Bliss appropriator What happened to the last guy Check it in the rider Woe is me You'll never know when I'm ready to sing I can't exist Can't do my thing Keep 'em waiting While I prefer to stay Catch a live performance Just for me, Cirque du Soleil Woe is me I'll let you know When I'm ready to sing I can't exist Can't do my thing Don't call me precious Priceless is just fine I'm worth even more In this here swollen head of mine Before I dance, get my Poddy-macologist I got bumps now Where's my phrenologist I'm off to the Funny Farm It's all there in the rider