You won't be laughing when your front lawn is spangled with epitaphs
The “front lawn” here is a metaphor for what happens right in front of all of America. The settlers won’t be laughing when their covered wagons crash (mainstream artist fame runs out). And the buzzards pick apart the rest of the wagons rags (everyone picks apart everything the artist does afterwards, until he has nothing). And then after all that, the front lawn will be covered with epitaphs, sayings on tomb stones. (Many mainstream artists die from overdose of drugs, etc. after fame runs out completely.)
This is all happening to the mainstream, something that everyone is aware of. We see it happening but to nothing to change the trend. So while it is easy to dismiss those that aren’t popular, at least they won’t have to deal with this never-ending, vicious cycle.
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