in your room you do dwell
as your ego discards itÂ’s shell
reality begins to swell
your spoken words start to smell
a legend in your own sick mind
truth in fiction you do find
the stench of a rotting rind
surrounds persons of your kind
stare into the looking glass
seek the hook, like a sea bass
do your dope, smoke your grass
you, my dear, have no class
the neon people reside here
shed a tear into your beer
in your room, feed your fear
keep your enemies very near