I've sealed myself in

Laminated all of my skin

Sellotaped my world in bits

I must embrace paralysis

Only in you do we see ourselves

Only in you can we see our end

So sick and so tired of being 4 real

Only the fiction still has the appeal

Builder of routines

It makes me safe and clean

It crucifies parts of me

But never seems to make me bleed

Only in you do we see ourselves

Only in you can we imagine our mend

So sick and so tired of being 4 real

Only the fiction still has the appeal

How I hate middle age

In between acceptance and rage

Democracy has sure made a fool out of me

But I am the builder of routines