It should go without saying
that I go without paying
any attention to you

Your life is my strife,
existence a pun,
and makes you look like a fool.

So you eat lots of shrooms
and listen to Tool...
what do you think that makes you?

When deep is skin-deep,
and piercings eat you,
the tattoos will only accrue

To "tell your story,"
and Whaddup, homie?
until death parts you

From the *** you don't get
and the lies you believe
to sleep at night, ****** and blue

If you were a book,
there'd be lots of pictures
and captions that just read "Who?"

with a  cover to judge
and be pretty true
an accurate description of you.