you're needing that good buzz about now. you're needing that musical escape. 'cause you saw yourself in the mirror, dotted lines around your prime cut. didn't know you were on the menu, walking gingerly around those forks.

all you did was say no more and now you're finding yourself strung up. sliding past the whispers in the hall, the fingers that find no cloth or dusters, just the nostril mucous all balled up.