Do you enjoy the melliferous taste of attention
As you hold your crispy, starched paper
While it confirms your defect
You have something formally locked to your feelings
I hope it makes you feel better
I have wondered about how comforting it must feel
To take such dense and bitter salts
As they stamp on your feet and shove you by your grubby shirt
Into a soft place
Maybe it would be better if they threw you into death
