I like to go fast--
 I guess I'm a racist

And short form sadistic
 Makes me a sadist

A stater of diction:
 A simple dictator

And I cater to hats
 Which makes me a hater

A modest worder that's guilty of murder
With thoughtful effort that comes off as theft
Absolute sureness has made me absurder
And I've always slept in, so inept

Now I'll never claim to finding my fame
By faking the aim of my mind
But a bind made of blunders just isn't the same
As saying I go about blind

Sure I'm naive and often a nob
By the name of my jive and also my job
But a trivial clue isn't true

And the bite that you itch is a son of a bitch
But the yak in your shoe isn't you

So please understand-- it's the standard of wonder
To understate blindness and call it a blunder
Then find it was destiny's hand

For being destitute and tiny may cause us to stumble
But to fumble through hell is how we get humble
And standing your ground can be grand

So listen to the glow as it glistens
Through that damn outer debt they call doubt
Insults and derision are hurtful incisions
But visions of misery give us our missions
And fighting's what life is-- a bout.