I'm not a master of what I surveyTo death and disaster I am a slave But I am the author of the words that I sayBut why do I bother; it's all trash anyway. I try to be truthful- or I think that I tryI 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 death 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 useI 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 singCause the fight to be human don't mean anything Yeah the fight to be human; it don't mean anything