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