A Song For Myself

I think I've read the wrong books all my life The ones that makes you reach for the knife The looming end The little bird of death So tap my shoulder I'm all out of breath Envying the Jesus-freaks' great mood If they can, why can't I feel good? I need another hobby but to blame My missing lobby On my catholic shame I'm cursed and jagged don't you see? Everything else comes to me It's suddenly getting darker There's no end to this night Stop your whining you're alright Stop your whining you're alright There's never been a job just being sad But it seems to been the one I've had I'm stepping up, is this the right event? Since it's official I'm not relevant Finding the tough in my luck I'm always lost, always stuck They'll never let me win Out of grudge and out of spite Stop your bitching you're alright Stop your bitching you're alright My home is a tunnel At the end there's no light Okay, this needs to stop right now Stop