Phone me up and threaten me
and weave your evil threats...

Deep in the dark we huddle,
no food or water to spare...

I like drinking types of coffee
some that even taste like toffee...

On a mission, to lose weight
but my will is weak indeed...

I have a voice that shrieks into the night
to break the shackles of this joyless plight...

Beauty doesn't guarantee all things good
Nor happiness laid on an open plate...

Have I not breathed the very air
that shouted once of freedom shared...

Thy stench dost wrench the ardour from my soul
and make my blood more cold than icy snow...

A blood curdling noise ices my veins
as I felt sharp fangs rip out my brains...

A dream to me is reflection
of all things my mind taketh in...

Eighteen and a rebel stating my place
wrapped in the arms of my parents embrace...

This one way road to nowhere
feeds your narcissistic need...