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?