Our guise is that of an apparition enthralled in the vanity of

self-worship our robe our crown as

much a part of us as the very marrow in our bones we'll have you

begging for you mother in the morning

your father is out he's been damn right he should be worried they'll call

you jane doe, they'll call you jane doe

one in a million one and the same one empty chamber one less to

blame this is a failing institution and

I've failed to notice.  I've learned not to despise this sentiment

complacency inokes atrophies embrace

I've learned to forget my desires and so what if I can't leave this

room that never stopped us before