Mirror

And I don't like what I see when I look inside that mirror

He's got razorblade teeth, and his image makes me shiver

The guy that's looking back at me does not talk to police

And if you caught him off-guard, he'd put a bullet through your fleece

He would trade his fucking soul just for an ounce worth of some peace

Or and ounce of good gelato, 'cuz he likes to smoke his weed

And he don't have nice house, or a good garden

He's got a noose though, 'cuz he's mentally scarred, and

He makes some new friends, then he goes and discards them

He's an introvert, making friends is just hard

And he's always fucking trouble at work, whoops

He winds his bosses up, yeah, he drives them bezerk