Come look in the mirror
Or would you rather drift
Into sepia-toned syndicates
And lose it all again
Many have come
And many have fallen
Only one has ever
Truly faced the longing
Of all the men and women
Worshiping oneself
Is never a great idea
Especially if you can’t
Even tell the difference
Between yellow mustard
And an abandoned green field
Never swallow anything
Without first asking what it is
Or chewing quite carefully
To at least see if it is Real