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.