It`s eaten who I am. It pauses plans. It took my
Hands beaten. Tool I am. The fools and ham,
but that`s OK...
Well I`ve fought to succeed against the cold
shoulders of misfortune and it`s elusive
schemes...
When I`d seen it all I thought I was fit to judge it
until I lost my wyn...
Those Days come like napalm and burnt out
those things that make some and break some to
amount to shit...
But I`m OK with it stapled to my head!
Play god the wrong. OK I think we know that
feeling deep down I`m not so scorned , just
Neuro fibro deformed...
The truth is I`d rather live like shit than conform
and stoop to novelty.
The less I care, the less I feel.