I want to be a celebrity, I possess the essential tools,
I know exactly what to do, I’ve noted all the rules.
First of all, forget the brain, leave it back in Peckham
Then learn how those in Essex speak, like Posh and David Beckham.
The next objective is quite clear, at least so said my lovely mother.
‘Get yourself on television, on somefing like Big Bruvver.’
Providing I emerge victorious, from that debilitating feat
Next step then is a photo shoot with OK, Hello and Heat.
Once I’m on the covers of those three glitzy magazines,
I’ll contact Simon Cowell (dressed in nerdy, chest-high jeans)
And grab a spot on X Factor or America’s got Talent.
Once that’s done and I’m a star, you’ll realise I haven’t
A thing to say that’s worth a jot, but I can clearly claim
That I am now a celebrity and can milk my instant fame.
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