I can't complain

how insane, can a man like me get?

drained by the book,

that you took away thin pain inside



free, so fucking free

memory, has switched into blackened lies

Wate... so called waste,

I have made... creator of bad taste



Chorus:

can't you see why I plea

but I've turned into not-me

blinkness seeks, much to deep

while you just stand there and...



bringer of hope is dope

all sorts, make it go away

I grief for things, that I did myself

therefore I cut, shortcut

I'm frantic each and every day

I awake, but life remains the same



first, first I cried.

mean you died, within prosperity

cranked up inside, I still seek

the means of livin' deep



seek for the truth, fuckin' truth

wiseman tells a flop

slipped upon waste I engaged

the creator of bad taste