While many of my friends are addicts, at least none of them have this kind of problem. Our society really makes me sick.

Figure

I know you’re looking for that certain perfection
I know you’re looking for that certain affection
Keep it up, you’re doing fine
You’re looking like a model
Keep it up, you’re making good time
You’re looking like a model
Say you’ll be back in a few minutes
Head straight for the bathroom
Shooting for what you see in the pinups
But no matter what, you’ll always be gloom
You’ll never look just like they do
They’ll never know just what you go through
I know you’re looking for that certain perfection
I know you’re looking for that certain affection
Keep it up, you’re doing fine
You’re looking more and more like a model
Skip another meal; you’ll be fine tomorrow by this time
You’re looking like a sick figure, less and less like a model
And every time you say you’ll be right back
I know you have less and less chances to say that
You’ve gotten pretty far off track
Because of your insecurities and thoughts of being fat
And someday, you’ll excuse yourself
And never come back