I don’t know who I want to be Picking and choose constantly Among a chain of eyes And a cupboard of noses And legs wrapped in plastic. I get to decide, because it’s my body Because it’s my life. So, I’ll slice of my old nose In exchange for new woes And I’ll pity the face staring at me I’ll remember I got my soul But once I sold that too. Now there is seldom to do But sit around and peer out of Unrecognizing eyes. Wishing to be one of those Who has their own mind