(intro : taken from "Notes From the Underground" by Fydor Dosteovsky")
I am a sick man, I am a spitefull man, I am an unattractive man, I think there is something wrong with my liver but i cannot make head or tail of my illness, and I am not absolutely sure which part of me is sick. Im not receiving any treatment nor have I ever done, although I do respect medicine and doctors, besides Im still extremely superstitious, if only I respect medicine, well its not out of spite that i do not want to be cured. You probably not see fit to understand this, but I do understand it of course.
I wont be able to explain to you who I will harm in this instant by my spite. I know perfectly well that I cannot in anyway sully the doctors by not consulting them... and thats my word


What you believe is true
what you believe is real
I believe in the god of doubt and sarcasm
chasing the dragon to the next page
bless this cup of misbehavor
bring it to your savior, and we can play
the game again
constantly chasing my tail back and forth
on earth trying to find my worth

She suddenlly takes off her hat,
shakes her black hair back and then smiles
the self-taught man studies them at great lengths with "the look in his eye"
and I dont know what he thinks
let me bathe in the shower of sin
with slit wrists, and i dont even give two shits
Im nauseated in the underground
as Im ill-mannered, ill-natured and negative
Begging for spare hope on the corner
Im Hopeless with a sign "Will Work For Hope"
washing your windows with windex
give me your Hope!
so I can build my own home of unconciousness
constantly caught between the crossroads
Right or Left, Life or Death
walking with lost souls
I lay in my bed like a grave
while your waiting for the moment for me to misbehave
Alone and strange Im "The Stranger"
as Im laying in my manger
the ressurection of Nothingness
and I could give a fuck less about conciousness... bitch

I Lay in my bed like a grave
I Lay in my bed like a grave
I Lay in my bed like a grave
and Im praying that Im not that way
repeat x1

This morning I woke up still dead
then I pulled the knife out of my back and I got up
Ive occupied this seat in hell for years
I poisoned myself sucking sulfuric gases
I sat in church last sunday on Acid
and masturbated to the image of Jesus
and by the time i finnally made it to the second page
my inspirations gone filling the empty space
I write bigger and my words are longer than the first
with lost meaning, babbling bullshit ramblings
I was born this way, Im sorrows native son
and I refuse to smile for anyone
I carry a complex where I dont feel like Im human
and my whole life Ive longed to belong
cause Im guilty
I fucked my bestfriend's girl
after he left when I said I was "too drunk to drive"
Well I lied
then I pretended to pass out on the couch
with my eyes half shut
now Im laying in your bitch's bed like a grave
and Im praying that Im not that way

Chorus
repeat x4