Builder Of Routines

I've sealed myself in Laminated all of my skin Sellotaped my world in bits I must embrace paralysis Only in you do we see ourselves Only in you can we see our end So sick and so tired of being 4 real Only the fiction still has the appeal Builder of Routines It makes me safe and clean It crucifies parts of me But never seems to make me bleed Only in you do we see ourselves Only in you can we imagine our mend So sick and so tired of being 4 real Only the fiction still has the appeal How I hate middle age In between acceptance and rage Democracy has sure made a fool out of me But I am the builder of routines