Perhaps I’m spending too much time looking for something that isn’t there
Listening to the voices while sitting in my underwear
And sipping on coffee, smoking cheap tobacco
Perhaps I’m ignoring the things I already know
 
Accusing me blatantly of robbing your youth
But you gave it freely… Don’t you remember?
Instead I sit like a parasite suckling on the blood of your childhood
And use it to fuel my own childlike lust forever
 
The bitter taste of it matches my brew
So much that I sugar coat it with fantasy
Of whom I am and what I’ve done to deserve this
Instead of opening my eyes to see what I haven’t done to avoid it…
 
You’re so perfect in your very being
That I have no hope in it making sense
You show me each and every one of my flaws
Through the super-powers of your very existence
 
I’m withering inside with your expectations of me
Your property, your servant, your trophy
Sitting on the shelf with the rest of your glories
A supporting actor in your very own life story