It's winter time and it's friday night I've got the rental movie of my choice popping corn in the microwave provides the only noise I've got my chair positioned just so right I got a harpoon on my left Surround sound is impeccable God I wish there was more to it. I look around, I've got more paraphenilia than a million, billion Star Trek fans and my only friend in the world right now thinks I've gone completely mad I live each waking moment hoping for a slight reprieve then that cloud of reality lifts so I stare blindly at the TV. I think a lot about later in my life and my room at the nursing home will I still be able to dress and relieve myself? will I be all alone? will some cancer finally get to me? or will it be an attacking heart? or is this all just pointless thoughts? or will I play that part? I'm the King of Loserville I'm the pathetic prince I'd rather live in a shopping cart than up at the Ritz You'll find me in my basement pad Some think I need to get laid Still living with my mom and dad Probably till I'm old and gray.