He used to be a fox-faced child With all the ugly nicknames. Rejection encouraged his hideous smile. Now he's cultivating some of his own games. Not enough just to be normal. He needs something nobody has. A secret war that makes him hard In a world that makes him mad.
No brakes on the train. No handles on the slide. Seesaw in his brain And there's a fat boy on the dark side. His face will be seen In every magazine. His name will be heard In every dying word.
He used to be a fox-faced child. He knows too much of the dark side. He will feast on immortality By swallowing your life. Part of his fear of death is yours, Part of it feels like mine. We've been in his mouth shouting at God And begging for extension of life.
No brakes on the train. No handles on the slide. Seesaw in his brain And there's a fat boy on the dark side. His face will be seen In every magazine. His name will be heard In every dying word.
A man who is nameless. Tomorrow he'll be famous And he'll burn his life Into the soft part of my brain.