In "Superstar," Maeta traces the hollow ache behind a glamorous life, where fake tan, press-on nails, and hotel robes stand in for warmth, connection, and home. The craving for real sun and real friends cuts against the pressure to perform, and the repeated question about feeling like a superstar turns fame into a lonely test rather than a reward. Crying alone in a car becomes the image of that gap between public shine and private emptiness. The top floor called Heaven lands as a false promise, since elevation without belonging only deepens the isolation.
Superstar Lyrics by Maeta
Fake tan all over my body, I’m craving real sun
Touching me, I’m losing my patience, waiting to feel something
We move to LA just to turn on the AC
Pinch me if you think that I’m crazy
Payin’ for flights just to see real friends
I need a real one
When all the lights
Only reach so far
And when you cry
All alone in your car
Do you feel like a superstar?
Do you feel like a superstar?
Pressure got me using these press-ons, I need some real ones
Rushing me, I’m singing it wrong ’cause I don’t feel nothing
Fuck you if you think that I’m lazy
I’m the first to leave my home as a baby
Paying for hotels all alone in this robe
I’m ’bout to steal one
When all the lights
Only reach so far
And when you cry
All alone in your car
Do you feel like a superstar?
Do you feel like a superstar?
Do you feel like that’s who you are?
Do you feel like a superstar?
Don’t put me on the top floor and tell me it’s Heaven
Heaven
Don’t put me on the top floor and tell me it’s Heaven
Heaven
Don’t put me on the top floor and tell me it’s Heaven
Heaven
Don’t put me on the top floor and tell me it’s Heaven
Heaven
Don’t put me on the top floor and tell me it’s Heaven
Heaven
Don’t put me on the top floor
