Each day my shortcomings pick my pockets My faults were letters carved in stone As meaningful to you as words written in water I′m left to walk this world alone
In a broken mold they made me The black sheep of the family Worth less than zero my opinion And room temperature IQ
I did something, now I′m nothing Always wrong with this or that Poisoned with fear watch it twist My measly brain mad
Talk about me when my bac is turned Next time we meet it will be to late The memory burned in my ears of what you said And now I′ve got a recipe for hate. Taste it
Dark clouds on the horizon Make it hard to breathe A walking mistake but every time I run away, I just come back for more
The choice is clear I can quit And fall on my sword or light a fire To see who runs or stays And plays the confidence game
...Warhorse I′m feeling quite invisible I feel just like thin air The truth taunts me
I see the earth below me I watch it spinning there Does someone, somewhere Out there hear me?
Sentenced to walk in Purgatory My life is running down I can′t believe what they′ve done to me
I′m left riding a Warhorse A man without a country
first of all I make sure I′ve got the right ingredients before I heat up the pan I take a little bit of bitterness to grease it up and keep everything close at hand then I add a few ounces of fresh frustration and half a cup of attitude A rush of adrenaline to spice things up and then half a spoon of bad mood one bottle of my sweat one bottle of tears, a few drops of my own blood it all blends together like a cat and dog and the result is as clear as mud I pick the worst situation out of the bunch and throw it right into the mix and last but not least I add a little bit of spit, just a few little nasty cliques
That′s my recipe for hate
I turn up the heat to 400 degrees and go to work on the attitude I shake it all up in a provocative way to make sure it comes out rude Then I grind down the frustration hard so that all of the scents can blend I pour the sweat on top and then the tears to make sure that I don′t make friends when the mood is wrong, everything is right, I can add the adrenaline but I′ve got to be careful with the dose I use, the effect shouldn′t wear to thin the blood comes last cos′ it always has a tendancy to cool and coagulate so I calculate and make no mistakes, it′s so fresh that it still pulsates
That′s my recipe for hate......
When the meal is done you get a spoiled appetite and a dish full of disagree some ignorance on the side, a plate full of hate, served with a fistful of me