“Another loose cannon gone bi-polar, slipped down, couldn’t get much lower.
Quicksand’s got no sense of humor. I’m still laughing like hell.
You think that by crying to me, looking so sorry,
that I’m gonna believe you’ve been infected by a social disease.
Well then, take your medicine…
I created the sound of madness, wrote the book on pain.
Somehow I’m still here to explain
that the darkest hour never comes in the night.
You can sleep with a gun, when you gonna wake up and fight for yourself?”