Oh I scarcely can remember, the time before the day,
that I became the monster you see here.
I've killed and robbed and ravaged all across this cruel world,
and I got through life by making others fear
I might be the most vile bastard that you've ever met,
But I wasn't always what I am today.
So I write these lines and wait for death behind these prison bars
and hope you listen well to what i say
Well when I was only twelve I stole some food and grabbed a gun
But then quickly got found out and sent away
To a reform school they said where I'd be battered beat and bruised
And that darkness settled in my heart to stay
They taught me to be beastly cruel to all my fellow man
A lesson burned in my soul to this day
So I torched the shed they beat me in, and waited for release
And I finally knew the part in life I'd play
Oh I was sculpted out of rage, and forged in a crucible of pain,
I don't regret the wrongs i've done, if I had the chance i'd do ‘em all again.
But maybe if i'd been shown a better way, I could have avoided this fate.
So teach your young rebels better than you did me, or you'll reap the fruits of hate
By the time that I was grown I roamed America alone
Leaving broken men and bottles in my wake
I used my strength to destroy and defile those I met
The lives and bodies of the weak were mine to take
From Fresno down to Texas all the way to old New York
I would carve my bloody mark across this land
My rage it never faltered and the bloodshed carried on
And as I write this out I still don't give a damn
Oh I was sculpted out of rage, and forged in a crucible of pain,
I don't regret the things I've done, if I had the chance I'd do ‘em all again.
But maybe if I'd been shown a better way, I could have avoided this fate.
So teach your young rebels better than you did me, or you'll reap the fruits of hate
Well they locked me up for burglary in Washington D.C.
and asked me of my crimes and I confessed
And conveyed for them my litany of killing and depravity
More than enough to condemn me to death
But you took pity on me, gave me pencils and a page
So I'm passing my story on to you
So show them that I was not a sinner born but sinner made
This will be the first and last good thing I do.
Oh I was sculpted out of rage, and forged in a crucible of pain,
I don't regret the things I've done, if I had the chance I'd do ‘em all again.
But maybe if I'd been shown a better way, I could have avoided this fate.
So teach your young rebels better than you did me, or you'll reap the fruits of hate
Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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