An empty room, Four white walls, Me and a flower, Singing the blues, The flower is dying, No sun shining through, I suppose it’s winter, But how can I know? No windows around me, Just sadness and death,

Screaming, Nonsense, Digital remastering, Whores, Twats and drugs, All about the money, Nothing for the soul, Forcing to create, Destroying music to the core, Greed and fame, Lust and power, Death to art,

The greedy are poor, The poor are rich, This fictional nonsense, A very time consuming expense. The good ended happily, The bad ended badly, A fictional story, To say the least. Life's worth everything,

Everything they say, Unbearably boring, Murder by monotony, A pitiful sight. They aren't worth attention, Nor the time, A place in society, Or the suns light. They are the stench, Of a lowlife latrine,