Fine. You make your own disgusting music video about how, when you're performing in front of an audience of people who have paid hard-earned money (for some reason) to come see your wan brand of easy-listening jazz fusion, what you're really thinking about is how you'd rather be being driven around by your fucking chauffeur in your goddamned Jaguar. Then you pitch the clip as a commercial to Jaguar, who put it on TV a million times a day, and the song becomes a huge hit, reviving sales of your Brand New Day album, which eventually sells two million copies. The story becomes a testament to power of synergy in marketing. Fine. I hope you're satisfied, sir. But your soul will burn in hell for this.