Or, when stories were told by the fire at night Which made one's flesh creep The listeners sometimes said "Oh, that makes me shudder" The youngest son would sit in a corner and listen with the others But he could not imagine what they meant "They are always saying 'It makes me shudder It makes me shudder' It does not make me shudder That too must be a skill that I do not understand" The older brother laughed when he heard that and thought to himself "Dear God, what a dimwit that brother of mine is Nothing will come of him as long as he lives He, who wants to be a sickle Must bend himself at times" The father sighed and answered him "You may well learn what it is to shudder But you will not earn your bread by that" Soon afterwards (fade out) I don't think I can relax here anyway With Nazi bitches speaking in my hood Raging, scaring people into loving soil That's still so drenched in blood it's a swamp Then I started running From I-don't-know-what Afraid of falling Too scared to stop Crippled by a kid's disease at thirty-five Unveiled the truth about man, about the world Then lifted the depression of America It's been manic ever since Fear yourself Then I started running From I-don't-know-what Afraid of falling Too scared to stay