What am I three steps removed for? Sometimes I feel so odd being adored. I'm little old me, what's the fuss for? What f** for, maybe I should stop it. Am I thinking too much should I just drop it? This shell around me is a tomb. It would do me good to leave, Yet I may never be exhumed. Even if I'm under the moon and in the nude, There's still too many layers to get through.