With apologies to the far superior poets around here, since I know bare song lyrics always read like doggerel, I present here the first draft. It's a bit verbose at the moment, but these things usually get pared down between first draft and performance. Scientific pedants tempted to complain about astrophysical inaccuracies therein are politely directed to their friendly neighbourhood dictionary, where numerophiles such as themselves should easily be able to find an entry for the phrase "poetic licence" somewhere in the middle of chapter 16.
Song for the Not Quites
I think I'm a feasible whore;
I'll set out my stall on a thick pile floor,
But I know - I'll be in the palms of their hands.
They rape me, sedately.
Nothing is forgotten, but nobody remembers to hate me.
Do I make too many demands?
My only desire was pursuit of perfection,
And now that I give an imperfect reflection,
If you want to smash what you see,
Don't get me wrong.
I think I could burn like a star,
And paint you with light, wherever you are
And I know I could be the glint in your eye.
Above you, I'd love you,
Show you how to travel beyond the little hovel you claim.
Or do I have delusions of fame?
But I think I could live like a queen:
Sit upon the throne of lands I'd never seen,
Since I know - arrogance is dutiful there.
for nothing more deserving than to be the one they're serving below,
And maybe for some beautiful hair.
I don't think I can hold what you are;
I don't think I can bear the weight of a star,
And I don't - I don't know what to say to you now.
You elate me, sedately.
I'll keep you entertained in body and in mind if I can,
As long as my poor talents allow.
I wish I could see with your eyes.
The darkest of saints - oh what a disguise!
And I'd know - I'd know what you thought of me then.
You're smiling, beguiling.
All I want to do is tell you that I love you -
But no - you might never touch me again.
Edited for a good idea nearly nine years later (18/02/10): a final flourish over the last multiple "Don't get me wrong" (which is supposed to be sung 4 times each chorus, though I didn't state that at the time) chorus going:
Whatever you want, and what you don't want's fine;
I'd never demand that you be mine