what will you have?

Augh, you low down dirty vermin you,
I see what it is you're up to.
All them fancy cars and new clothes,
your wife's new plastic nose;
you tell a golden story
but that's not much for glory.
No need to look at me with despair
I'm not the one who seems to care.
I'm starting to shutter, I've been here before,
scrounging in the gutter, nothing but a whore.

I'm aware where I come from, I know who I am;
are you such a person, are you such a sham?
Out in the darkness, you'd think me lost,
but with all you've got, what was the cost?
At the end of the game, at the end of the race,
will all your friends applaud you and call you an ace?
I've tinkered and tattered and fucked with my mind
but what will they say that you left behind?
Somewhere beyond where Valhalla may lie,
what will you have when you've gone to die?