Sitting in this room, dark and gloom

Four walls look to me to be Hell

Sitting in this room sucks so bad

And I might as well be off in jail



Everybody outside these walls to me seem so plastic

They seem so phony and so unreal



They tell you do this, don't do that

Do this, don't do that

Do this, don't do that

Do this, don't do that

Do this, don't do that

It makes me sick



In this room, dark and gloom

Four walls of Hell, I'd rather be inside a tomb

Oh, in this room with my needle and my spoon, all by myself

I'm making love to myself inside this room



Sitting in this room I want to die

I want to die, I want to die



Death is in this room

And you know death is often these days on my mind



I'm sick, I'm sick

I'm sick, I'm sick

I'm sick, I'm sick

I'm sick, I'm sick

I'm sick and all things must pass away some day



But in this room, all dark and gloom

Four walls of Hell, I'd rather be inside my tomb

Oh, in this room, with my needle and my spoon, by myself

I'm making love to myself inside this room



Oh, in this room, with my needle and my spoon

And a bottle in my arm, pills in my mouth in this room

Oh, in this room, four walls of Hell inside this room

I'm making love to myself inside this room



Sitting in this room, I want to die

I want to die, I want to die