Stan

• Eminem
• Curtain Call

My tea’s gone cold I’m wondering why I

Got out of bed at all

The morning rain clouds up my window

And I can’t see at all

And even if I could it’ll all be gray, but your picture on my wall

It reminds me that it’s not so bad, it’s not so bad

Dear Slim, I wrote but you still ain’t callin’

I left my cell, my pager and my home phone at the bottom

I sent two letters back in autumn, you must not’a got ’em

There probably was a problem at the post office or somethin’

Sometimes I scribble addresses too sloppy when I jot ’em

But anyways; fuck it, what’s been up? Man, how’s your daughter?

My girlfriend’s pregnant too, I’m ‘bout to be a father

If I have a daughter, guess what I’mma call her? I’mma name her Bonnie

I read about your Uncle Ronnie, too, I’m sorry.

I had a friend kill himself over some bitch who didn’t want him

I know you probably hear this everyday, but I’m your biggest fan

I even got the underground shit that you did with Skam

I got a room full of your posters and your pictures man

I like the shit you did with Rawkus too; that shit was phat!

Anyways, I hope you get this man, hit me back, just to chat

Truly yours, your biggest fan, this is Stan

Dear Slim, you still ain’t called or wrote, I hope you have a chance

I ain’t mad, I just think it’s fucked up you don’t answer fans

If you didn’t wanna talk to me outside your concert

You didn’t have to, but you coulda signed an autograph for Matthew

That’s my little brother man, he’s only six years old

We waited in the blistering cold for you, four hours and you just said, “No”

That’s pretty shitty man, you’re like his fuckin’ idol

He wants to be just like you man, he likes you more than I do

I ain’t that mad though, I just don’t like bein’ lied to

Remember when we met in Denver, you said if I’d write you

You would write back, see I’m just like you in a way

I never knew my father neither

He used to always cheat on my mom and beat her

I can relate to what you’re saying in your songs

So when I have a shitty day, I drift away and put ’em on

‘Cause I don’t really got shit else so that shit helps when I’m depressed

I even got a tattoo of your name across the chest

Sometimes I even cut myself to see how much it bleeds

It’s like adrenaline, the pain is such a sudden rush for me

See everything you say is real, and I respect you cause you tell it

My girlfriend’s jealous ‘cause I talk about you twenty-four/seven

But she don’t know you like I know you Slim, no-one does

She don’t know what it was like for people like us growin’ up

You gotta call me man, I’ll be the biggest fan you’ll ever lose

Sincerely yours, Stan

P.S. We should be together, too

Dear Mr. I’m-Too-Good-To-Call-Or-Write-My-Fans:

This’ll be the last package I ever send your ass!

It’s been six months and still no word, I don’t deserve it?

I know you got my last two letters; I wrote the addresses on ’em perfect

So this is my cassette I’m sending you, I hope you hear it

I’m in the car right now, I’m doing 90 on the freeway

Hey Slim, I drank a fifth of vodka, you dare me to drive?

You know the song by Phil Collins, In the Air of the Night?

About that guy who coulda saved that other guy from drowning?

But didn’t, then Phil saw it all, then at a show he found him?

That’s kinda how this is, you coulda rescued me from drowning

Now it’s too late, I’m on a thousand downers now, I’m drowsy

And all I wanted was a lousy letter or a call

I hope you know I ripped all of your pictures off the wall

I love you Slim, we coulda been together, think about it

You ruined it now, I hope you can’t sleep and you dream about it

And when you dream, I hope you can’t sleep and you scream about it

I hope your conscience eats at you and you can’t breathe without me

See Slim; shut up bitch! I’m tryin’ to talk!

Hey Slim, that’s my girlfriend screamin’ in the trunk

But I didn’t slit her throat, I just tied her up, see I ain’t like you

‘Cause if she suffocates, she’ll suffer more and then she’ll die too

Well, gotta go, I’m almost at the bridge now - Oh, shit! I forgot!

How am I supposed to send this shit out?

Dear Stan, I meant to write you sooner but I just been busy

You said your girlfriend’s pregnant now, how far along is she?

Look, I’m really flattered you would call your daughter that

And here’s an autograph for your brother, I wrote it on the Starter cap

I’m sorry I didn’t see you at the show, I musta missed you

Don’t think I did that shit intentionally just to diss you

But what’s this shit you said about you like to cut your wrists too?

I say that shit just clownin’ dogg; c’mon, how fucked up is you?

You got some issues Stan, I think you need some counselling

To help your ass from bouncing off the walls when you get down some

And what’s this shit about us meant to be together?

That type of shit’ll make me not want us to meet each other!

I really think you and your girlfriend need each other

Or maybe you just need to treat her better

I hope you get to read this letter, I just hope it reaches you in time

Before you hurt yourself, I think that you’ll be doin’ just fine

If you relax a little, I’m glad I inspire you, but Stan

Why are you so mad? Try to understand, that I do want you as a fan

I just don’t want you to do some crazy shit

I seen this one shit on the news a couple weeks ago that made me sick

Some dude was drunk and drove his car over a bridge

And had his girlfriend in the trunk and she was pregnant with his kid

And in the car they found a tape, but they didn’t say who it was to

Come to think of it, his name was it was you!

Damn