I have to be invisible.
I hide in the solace of my house.
I don’t go out during the day
My agent pays my bills
Which are under his name.
I can’t walk down the street
As I get mobbed
By people who are awestruck.
It became tiresome years ago.
I tried being pleasant initially
But after a few years it became annoying.
Now there are people on the streets
On the lookout for me.
They will never see me.
This is the quitest town I could find.
It’s thousands miles away from America
From the fakery of Hollywood
And all that goes with it.
My personal assistant does my shopping.
My cleaner does my cleaning
While I peruse possible possible scripts.
I find one. Back to Hollywood.
What actor am I? Where do I live?
You’ll never find me.
Only 4 people know my phone number.
This is how I like things.