A taste of success is a waste of success

On such a total mess.

I walk around, all over town,

Just staring at the ground

All bent out of shape over you.

I'm all too sane, it's all too plain,

Yet I never could explain.

So I read a magazine with a picture of me

As I'm drifting out to sea

All bent out of shape over you.

If I make the scene, what does it mean

If I was in some poll with Garbage and Hole?

I made the list - it proves that I exist,

But will I be missed when I vanish in the mist?