Family History and the Day of Reckoning

Well all of my bones are just shaped the wrong way
And my struggles are spelled out in the stars
My mind was programmed as a newborn
To eat itself alive
And my past has my heart choked in scars
Perhaps we're all doomed from birth
Perhaps all our fates are decided

So maybe I'm a little too much like my mother
She was just long lost before I met her
Shut out her brain and then shrunk her soul senseless
Never loved anyone or anything enough to face a harsh truth
Never wanted to be good bad enough
To confront the mirror
Never will
Perhaps we're all doomed from birth
Perhaps all our fates are decided

I know a man who had AIDS from his mama
Before they even wiped the afterbirth off his face
I have a friend who nearly fed himself to wolves
Because he couldn't live up to his parents' expectations
Perhaps we're all doomed from birth
Perhaps all our fates are decided

Maybe there's a god and he's watching us closely
Same way we would watch a bloody accident
Traps us like insects to study for leisure
Surrounds us with pain and sorrow like rats in a maze
Kicks back with popcorn as a slave buffs his nails, says
"I wonder how they'll get out of this one"
Perhaps we're all doomed from birth
Perhaps all our fates are decided

I know a girl who can't get into college
Because of the things she did in preschool
I have a friend who cuts lines on her wrist
Because her babysitter used to cut lines of coke
Perhaps we're all doomed from birth
Perhaps all our fates are decided

Well maybe I'm a little too much like my father
He always did raise hell
Just trying to survive in the world now
Like salmon leaping waterfalls
Thinks it's too late to be the man that he dreamed of
Perhaps we're all doomed from birth
Perhaps all our fates are decided

I know a woman who's afraid to have kids
Because of the mental illnesses that run in her family
I have a friend who can't accept praise
Because he once saw it lead a man to ruin
Perhaps we're all doomed from birth
Perhaps all our fates are decided

And maybe I'm nothing more than my inner child
Maybe I'm damned to live the way I was raised
Maybe I'll always be fourteen in the back of an ambulance
Broken bones and bated breath
Maybe I'll always be four and spaced senseless
Maybe we're all made to fail
Perhaps we're all doomed from birth
Perhaps all our fates are decided

We're all just an inch away
From suicide or murder
Like every dog is one bite
From becoming a wolf
We're all doused in gasoline
And born in bonfires
We're all too busy burning
To turn on the goddamn hydrant
Maybe we're all built defective
Perhaps all our fates are decided