If it sticks it sticks,
But its worth the fix,
Im looking at the mirror,
As my hands quiver,
At the thought of the powder,
Brings me thought of the laughter,
The joy

What is the norm?
When I was born?
Or when I clean that mirror,
Cant do two days without,
I begin to shiver,
I want out

They call me "scum" a "bum" a drain on society,
They dont know me for all that I could be,
I'll laugh out loud when they give me the frown,
But I know the truth, I'll be the end of this town.