Fleeting is fame.

It's like striving after the wind.

No one can get too comfortable with its breeze

It it to Father Time's chagrin.

First, one person gets the breeze

Then, it passes on to the next man,

because every generation has talent

and every generation's talent has fans.

Everybody loves the breeze

until it stops flowin' in their direction.

Phonies only come around when in need.

Rare is unconditional affection.

Wisdom is a form of protection.

It understands that fame won't love anybody back.

Wise people use their notoriety with discretion.

They're in tune with the core, underlying facts.