Anger, have you ever felt anger with nowhere to place it? Vincent felt cold, neglected, and jaded, impotent Empathy castrated Look for the new thing, always look for the new thing, but never look inside Never look within, within, without, above, below, same thing Wait, it gets deeper than that The insane thing, insane men living in insane terrain can turn insane, brains that are kinda deranged, strange Without a factor of cause and effect, factually, the man's a causality of constant neglect Let's start at the start Vincent was born in the dark Homebirth to a mother paintin' scars in her arm Track marks from the dragon, China white in a palm Shootin' up the birth canal, Vinny fell out like yarn Tumbled out, himself unravelin', and that was the theme Exceptionally average gray spray with low self-esteem From the fire to the fryin' pan, paintin' it green When it's the cash that rules everything around me Cream get the money, funny, Vin' He weren't ever good at hustlin' Shitty jobs that he was dead and stockin', started a combustion Nothing pulled him out of that, the debt collectors rushin' to be strippin' him of everything Eventually, there's nothing, the cycle is a cycle for a psychopath on ice The day repeats, the days of weeks, the weeks of most your life When the day's done, it's the same one It's a repeat, it's a re-run, a Déjà vu religion, a foreboding of a prison Whole Britain, Great Britain, help Britannia rule the wage We started out with intentions and we ended up like slaves Drink to kill the tension, but the drinks cost your wage What helps you is what kills you when you're living to decay And so it goes, Vinny starts to drink to let go Soon, he's drinking 'cause when he don't drink, every day is a day on death row So, we drink so we don't have to think, ma-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o, see Tastes bitter sweet When the spirit that's inside of him sinks in his teeth And the months turn over, May to October More days pissed than the days he spent sober Skin looks older, demeanor gets colder Sledgehammer swing to that chip on your shoulder A cold, cold prison, deep in alcoholism Forty percent proof, no juice, inhibition, get loose Bad decision and taboos when we're living for the booze Who's who, he lose himself to, one, two Many one, two, three shots down Drown those sorrows up in London town If we in for a penny, we in for a pound Fate comes full circle, now it's Vinny boy's round