I Went for Drinks with Patrick Bateman

I went for drinks with Patrick Bateman,
At least he looked a lot like him.
He went for J&B on the rocks.
«What's that?», I asked. He cried: «It's Justerini & Brooks.»
Does the suit make the man or does the man make the suit?
He talked about men’s wear and girls and bars and food.
There’s nothing more to him, so I don’t listen anymore,
Cause I mean nobody does. He watched that girl at the door.
«Oh Pat», I asked, «what's on tonight? Do you humiliate or rape?»
All he said was «I have to return some video tapes.»
At first I really liked this guy but quickly left him alone.
I’m glad I did and realized my heart’s not made of stone.
Like this selfish psycho, stuck in his own world,
Pretending to be more than just a superficial jerk.
Come on, leave them all alone, you envious asshole,
This morning Patty Winter’s covered psychopathic Wallstreet-fools.
I went for drinks with Patrick Bateman. I’m glad it was a dream.
More kind of a nightmare but they feel as real as they seem.
This is not my world and this ain’t my kind of night,
And suddenly he left this room, in his hands a kitchen knife.
I don’t like shutting books, just a few are left half-read,
But Pat, you are the most abhorrent character I’ve ever met.