there’s no nerve he won’t wrack
when reflected in glass
and he’s there looking back
from the windows I pass
turns my calm to unease
with his smell of ill health
he’s the walking disease
who's infected himself
and he sits by my wife
eating lunch with my kid
like a part of their life
that is usually hid
and I watch them lean in
on each word he spoke
and he gives me this grin
like it's all a big joke
so I show him some anger
I let it all free
say 'hey doppelgänger,
don't doppelgäng me!'
and I shoo him away
like he has leprosy
not before he can say
'I am you, me and we'
now he’s lying in wait
while his power accrues
if I dissociate
then he’ll walk in my shoes
so I have to prepare
as he’s bound to return
any time, anywhere
that's the first thing you learn.