Life In A Box

It seems to be cold in here, inside the empty head of

You. The end of you. When you speak, your pink, pink pout

Spouts out poison, and without a doubt, they believe in

You. Idiot, well I know, yes I know, what this is about.

I have most definitely figured you out. Behind your vile

Smile, here is more teeth than I can count and a pair of

Horns to go with your lying grin.