Paper Scratcher
Shuffle can to can nobody really gives a damn
For every living day I give myself a hand
Now I'm scroungy as can be
I got all you normals looking at me
I'll scratch a hole in my life
So everyone can see
My mind is a mind that I have come to know
And my eyes can't conceive a world that can not grow
And Fridays are always fresh days
Screamin' at the sun, don't really
Know what he has done
He don't believe in God and a world as one
So he rambles through the weeds
And he will sleep beneath the trees
On the day I die, Thank God my Soul will be released