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