If they dare imply
That my disguise
Is fake
If they dare make a mistake
I'll latch onto them
I'll detach from the stem
All the flowers in bloom
Make a fire in a room
With the doors locked
The window closed
A gun cocked
I will impose
My intentions
No convention
Could stop me burning down
Don't you even try to frown
Or I'll point you out as what you are
In your speeding motorcar
I'll resist, resist the shame
In this room so full of flame
I'm crying, but I hope the tears
Stoke the fire and stoke these fears
In my engine room I'll fight
Any impulse that you call right
I deserve to be in the wrong
I deserve to write these songs
Of disgusted gratitude
Of a series of broken, lewd
Encounters that might seem a joke
Of the broken bonds that yoke
Me to the burning room
Go on, your camera zooms
Into a close-up on my ashen stare