Save your mundane platitudes for this who give a shit.
I’ll burn in Hell, and be through with it.

I got a life. It ain’t big, but it’s a life.

And I’ve got clothes, and heaven knows that I’ve still got my health.
I look good, if I do say so myself.

I got a soul. It ain’t yours, but it’s a soul.
Chalk up my lack of fire to self control.

All the dicks with nightsticks, poison boys in blue,
all the dumb and uglies in your wrecking crew,
they’ll bleed me out. Nothing I can do.
I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you. (Which, incidentally, I’m not).

Weren’t you the guys with “get lost” eyes that made my high school great?
You found me again, but this time you’re here too late.

‘Cause I paid my dues when I wore corrective shoes.
That’s when I earned the right to ignore you.

Toughest kid in gym class, terror in the hall,
necking with the prom queen, captain every fall,
you can’t cut me now ‘cause you knife’s gone dull.
It must piss you off to know it all.

Lyrics submitted by Mellow_Harsher

Cyclops song meanings
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