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.