 Downright wrong, I tell you, nobody never gave us nothing. The tough time, it made us on a different stretch of road. Knew something to see. Every state on the map, a different something to eat. Taps and handshakes, it meant nothing for real. Everybody making the killing, man. Showing no feelings. Walking off collective pain is the way of the world. Can't change it, so I guess I'm going to pray for the world. Sometimes I ask myself, was I made for the world? I scream this to you.