There's smoke in this room
I have nowhere to sit
There's smoke in this room
Are my hands are shaking?

I hold the menu,
knowing that four-hundred eyes are watching me,
and you expect me not to shake at first?

and you cry out,
Boy! Boy! You are fantastic!
and I yawn slyly,
and say...

Can I get one of those?
There's smoke in this room
And their eyes are cutting me,
from the inside I feel-

Your love on my neck
and your drunken words
on my ears. I'm sorry, I
just can't love you.

And nobody is laughing,
when you invite me to piss
or smear your lipstick
or yell until you cry.

Because when four-hundred eyes are watching you,
only two actually care.