I was a nice kid whatever you believe.
I was a good man when I knew the song you loved in three notes; I was a good man with a kind heart.
I was a good man whatever you believe.
I've had love, I know I'm capable
of love and being loved.
If you heard me singing in the car, then you'd say, there's a man who can still love the world. But only if you did not realise, I am only singing the sad ones. And it breaks the stone I call a heart that never is there anyone to sing them with me.
Here's a world that loves a hustler, where goodness is a doormat. Here's a world where you are weighed in money, and I have none.
Tomorrow I have to confess to the sosh that I have no value. For 200 bucks a week, the government gives itself a licence to tell me I'm worth nothing. I wish I could be free but I have nothing anyone wants to buy, and no talent to make anything of.
People say, oh just write a book. But it's hard when you know no one will want it. It's not a world for nice boys with good hearts. It's a world for hustlers, men who see you as rungs on a ladder, women who use you to get where they want to be, then wipe you off their shoe.
I have always had a problem that I don't want to play the game. I know what you're supposed to do but I don't want to. I should have been a lawyer or a doctor, but somehow I preferred being a free spirit. In any case my dad would not support me in college if I didn't give up smoking. I lost three stones in defying him. One evening I fainted in the campus chipshop because I finally had five pounds to buy a chilliburger with.
I know I should lie and cheat. I know I should care nothing about people, just use them for whatever I need. I know I should value them purely for what they can give me, and if they ever need something in return, I should drop them like a stone.
I wanted to be different, but the problem with being different is that everyone else is the same.