Who You Are

Give up the notion that you're going far,
Stop this pretence that everything is fine.
Things are not fine. It's only Frankenstein
Who thinks you're bound to be a giant star,
And just the Wolfman you met at the bar
Who thinks you smell nice. Have a little wine,
Thinned with the merest drop of turpentine,
And try to make some sense of who you are.

One of the worst of your scenarios
Involves a sewer spewing up grey steam
While you run past with your detective team.
Don't open doors that you were meant to close,
Avoid that open-mouthed, half-smiling pose,
Go back to Slopsville, and spit out that dream.