Faggotronica

As I walk through the corridors, I see a little janitor wink shyly to me, and flutter about.

And I walk towards the other guys and I surmise. Much to my surprise-It's all make believe. I kick the back drop and dive into the fake sea. I can't help but swim to the ocean. The police is following me. Smells like a rotten apple in this barrel of fruit salad always surrounding me. The stench of fish filet makes me sick always haunting me. Oh, 

Faggotronica you are not in the encyclopedia.

But you come out of me!