The grease has turned to ice upon the first discarded box
I am a prisoner of the hunger and the double-turning locks
I licked the cardboard clean and chewed the crusts of hardened wheat
But the furnace in my belly still demands more heavy meat
I watched the driver vanish in the darkness of the street
Leaving me with nothing but the scent of spiced defeat
I gripped the plastic phone and dialed the digits once again
A frantic repetition for a man within his den
The shame is just a seasoning I sprinkle on the dough
As I watch the tracking bar begin its steady rhythmic glow
I am an animal in denim with a credit card in hand
Seeking out the salt and fat throughout this hollow land
The door is going to shudder when the knocker hits the wood
I am trading every penny for the things I never should
Order up the carnage and the molten yellow cheese
I am crawling through the excess on my bruised and shaky knees
Fill the void with pepperoni and the steam of a mistake
Feeding every demon that I managed to awake
The second box arrives and I collapse upon my lap
Falling once again into the heavy greasy trap
I tear into the center with a violent sudden greed
Ignoring every signal that my body doesn’t need
My jaw is working overtime to grind the rubbered crust
A monument of dough and sauce and unadulterated lust
The world is shrinking down into a fourteen inch diameter
A tragic heavy epic written in a broken meter
The bottom of the carton shows its white and waxed face
I am the king of nothing in this dark and messy space
The third delivery is gone and still I feel the hollow
Drowning in the heavy weight of everything I swallow