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.