Is there any wonder
why you're niche?
You speak of specifics,
in a world dumbfounded
by careful detail.
What the hell's the point of this?
Its creator better explain it to me,
if they want my sweet green sheets
of superfluous pillow stuffing.
Is there any wonder
why you're niche?
You speak of specifics,
and America speaks with money,
"Give me Very Easy, as
at the end of the day
I just want to wind down
my thoughts, and turn off my brain."
You're alone,
because you go,
"Hit me with that good ****!
I wanna think and speak
tongues with a loved one,
til we both change into eggs."

This is my song:
Where are my loves?
I thought misery
loved company.