What Am I

Where am I in this world

What is my place

I'm not sure

All I know

Is that people are crazy

I try my best

I make myself smile

Make conversation

All the while my mind is going

Everything flies through my head

Will I ever make it

Be somebody

Lord knows I won't be a cashier

Or customer service forever

I don't even know if I'll make it through the week

Not with the egotistical man standing behind me

Reminding me of the cold eyes

Cold eyes I saw so many times

What honestly makes a man think they're so much better

They're just shit

Just another shithead walking this earth

But these ones think they are the shit

I'd love to show them what kind of shit they really are

I'd love to be the one with the upper hand

The one behind the gun

The one behind the fists

The disrespectful egomaniac behind the desk

The ones that come through my lane

Looking at me as if I was a joke

The ones that look at me like a piece of meat

Those ones also have no respect

I don't check out your body with no hesitation

I don't treat you like dirt

I don't use a gun against others

I don't throw people out of trucks

Or beat them with my fists

Or with my words

What in God's name makes you think you have the right

Who the hell are you

I've said it before

Now I'll write

I wish I was about hundred ninety pound dude straight muscle

I'd beat the living pulp out of so many guys