"from lancaster."

go home!
your mother misses ya!
why sleep cold and hungry?
the street's don't love ya,
out here, nobody loves ya!
think of all the books you aren't reading,
quit clogging your senses!--
all this light,  all this artificial sweetner
i bet there's trees where you're from,
i bet your father mowed a lawn,
paid for school,
paid your rent so you could blow it all here
and now before you die too old.