I'm not a master of what I survey
To death 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 heave at the chains
But I am the governor of my empty domains


I hate the world they gave me
I hate the world they gave me


And debt and disease they prey on my mind
And after they leave me, I drink til I'm blind?
And 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.


Ghosts gather around me and pick at my seams
Like death in the family darken my dreams
And I'm spinning towards some infinite place

I wish I had done something good for the race

Poison and postings hate 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 colour are you?"


I step up to the plate yeah with a match for a bat
And strike alight and set fire to my hat

And I won't be dragooned by the whitest and worst
'f I must shoot for the moon I'll 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