The Fight To Be Human

Currie Justin

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 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 blindâ??

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 use

I 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 sing

Cause the fight to be human don't mean anything

Yeah the fight to be human; it don't mean anything