The Northwestern Bearitories: B) Kid Cancer
I can't be remembered as a great adventurer
Make a mark, or make a stain
But take it for what it is
Nothing gets to me like mediocrity
Shouldn't have stayed, should have been on my way
But there's a mean little bastard living inside of me
An abscess, some kind of growth
My God, that sounds so gross
They call me Kid Cancer, and now I know why
Invite me to dinner, see now I'm inside
If I can't be a hero, I'll be a plague
Charmed all you bears now, they're all dead, they're all dead
So make a mark (I've made a few)
Or make a stain (I've made those too)
And take it for (I'll take it all)
What it is
Shouldn't have stayed, but I got carried away
Like a kid in a candy store, pocket full of razor blades
Sticking gum in sister's hair, or in the backyard burning ants
They call me Kid Cancer, I call myself me
For what's in a name, as long as one stains some pages of history
If these fingers were knives, the things I'd fillet...
Oh you, great attender, cause I'll think that you're fake
I bet these lips are dead as mine are with weight
Like any great performer, more than happy to fade
Shouldn't have stayed, but I got fucking outplayed
And the demon advanced with a hidden agenda: me
For once a sweet young child, I guess it's been a while
They call me Kid Cancer, a beast calls me son
I haven't yet decided, it isn't sure, is this fun?
Make a mark, or make a stain
But take it for what it is
Nothing gets to me like mediocrity
Shouldn't have stayed, should have been on my way
But there's a mean little bastard living inside of me
An abscess, some kind of growth
My God, that sounds so gross
They call me Kid Cancer, and now I know why
Invite me to dinner, see now I'm inside
If I can't be a hero, I'll be a plague
Charmed all you bears now, they're all dead, they're all dead
So make a mark (I've made a few)
Or make a stain (I've made those too)
And take it for (I'll take it all)
What it is
Shouldn't have stayed, but I got carried away
Like a kid in a candy store, pocket full of razor blades
Sticking gum in sister's hair, or in the backyard burning ants
They call me Kid Cancer, I call myself me
For what's in a name, as long as one stains some pages of history
If these fingers were knives, the things I'd fillet...
Oh you, great attender, cause I'll think that you're fake
I bet these lips are dead as mine are with weight
Like any great performer, more than happy to fade
Shouldn't have stayed, but I got fucking outplayed
And the demon advanced with a hidden agenda: me
For once a sweet young child, I guess it's been a while
They call me Kid Cancer, a beast calls me son
I haven't yet decided, it isn't sure, is this fun?