My windows are on the street   and there's knives in my drain   I've broken the cardboard   forced fists in my brain   I blacken the walls as I suffer my youth   I've got the cancer of birth    and I ask what's the use   there's knives in my drain   and there's shafts in my brain      curling the hairs and every man's mad   broken fingers of passion and every girl's sad      I'm split and unbled and I'm ripped to the sore   every man's madness and I'm hurdling ripped to the core   there's knives in my drain   empty splints in my brain      I've carved knives in my hair, it's every man's dream   I've broken the passion and every girl bleeds   I'm blackened and bleeding, I'm ripped to my youth   every man's madness, and I ask, what's the use?