Your poetry describing me
It doesn't come close
You work the handle
You smear and turn
But you come no closer to meaning
It's your vanity
That's obvious
It embarra**es
Those that adore you
But who's gonna talk
Oh how it'll hurt
You were always unstable
But you've gotten worse
You looked into mirrors
Where d**h was at work
Of that you were certain
But it was all surface
And surface is numb
Something to wake us
From cultural slumbers
You f**ing sleepwalkers
Go on and sleep
Go on and sleep
This is tomorrow