In a way, look man, I can't make something better, I'm pretty thankful for what I got, and it's a deal any way you slice it. They give me a rickety shack sittin' on top of toxic waste, in turn they get a pound of flesh in servitude. It's the way of the world, there are producers and there are takers. You yourself have to take from the poison bowl to keep the bowels movin', you feed on life just as much as any parasite. You should make amends by contributing to neg-entropy, reduce chaos as a producer. It is your duty, so what if them heels are walkin' all over you, that's your role, embrace it, as I have, the peasant of misery. There is no pat on the back, there is no yellow brick road, there is only the nothingness and your reflection.