I'm not a master of what I survey
To d**h and disaster I am a slave
But I am the author of the words that I say
But why do I bother; it's all trash anyway. I try to be truthful- or I think that I try
I may not be useful but at least I'm alive.
And millions of letters spill into the hive
And all of them worthless
Except for this line: I hate the world they gave me,
I hate the world they gave me I stand on a mountain of pitiful prose
My mind is a fountain that pointlessly flows
They give you a trophy if you make the kids scream
But it's such a joke to me; how insipid I've been. I hate the world they gave me,
I hate the world they gave me I dig into my past now; I dig into my wrist
To recapture the last time I felt the knife twist
And I kick at the shackles, And I heave at the chains
But I am the governor Of my empty domain I hate the world they gave me
I hate the world they gave me And dead and diseased they prey on my mind
And after they leave me, I drink til I'm blind...
I once had a refuge in music and wine but now I am deaf to
The word on the line I cling to my records I cling to my fates
That fool in the mirror has taken my place
And the funniest funerals; the saddest of births
Are all an excuse to indulge in my thirst. I hate the world they gave me,
I hate the world they gave me My body's a riot; my mind's the police
I feed myself lies to enforce some peace
Tell people I love them; shake idiot's hands
And sometimes I hug them as custom demands I used to believe in the goodness of man
But not anymore since I became one of them
So I hoodwinked my woman and bought her a ring
But like the fight to be human- it don't mean anything.
Like the fight to be human, it don't mean anything. Girls gather around me and pick at my seams
Like d**h in the family docking my dreams
And I'm fitting to watch them infinite plays
I wish I had done something good for the race Poisonous postings singing songs in the streets
The government's boasting of catching the cheats
I cringe into my collar and drink into my shoes
As cheerleaders holler which color I use I step up to the plate yeah with a match for a bat
And strike at a lightning set fire to my hair
And I won't be dragooned by the whitest and worst
In a shoot for the moon and shoot myself first And the harder it gets now the softer I sing
Cause the fight to be human don't mean anything
Yeah the fight to be human; it don't mean anything