Defective

Does this mean I am done for?
A life worth living
With nothing to talk about?
Nothing to clock out in the end
No books to write
Empty lyrics for silent notes
Nothing...
Almost like a rehearsal dinner
For a memorable wedding
Expect my bride and groom never showed up
Does this mean I am over?
A life unplanned at an age
Where my skin is still taut
I am done, I am over, I am dead for
Pack your things and move to another body
Because this one is no good
Fat that can't burn
Lips that won't grow
A waist that won't shrink
And eyes that will never sparkle
With a brain that won't work
Mark me down and put me in the back
With the opened bag of chips and that three legged chair
I am more than junk
But less than a good bargain
What I am is normal and ordinary
Scratch me off, I am out of here...