Here in the hole

You see, that's the way the world is
Not a lot you can do about it
Except to accept
There was a time I thought about it
Plenty of time I thought about it
Then decided not to
Here in the hole I'm surrounded by fools
Degenerates and phonies
I suffer a constant bombardment of nonesence from all sides
When central control rendered me (?) to requirements
My imprinters relocated to the ruins of Paris, where I regenerate
My new face accepting me immediately without the usual problems
I operate a program of self denial
Yet languish in polymorphous perversity as is my want
Each day, although I believe I'm free
Something pulls me back into a past made real only by their understanding
And all the while the calls come in, and keep coming in (and keep coming and keep coming...)
And still
I'm hunted for my flesh
I'm hounded for my beauty
In a world turned on its head
I steady myself, ready to enter (ready to enter)
They believe I know everything, but if my master's memory serves me well
In fact I know nothing
And so they will find me
And in the middle of a cold afternoon, they will ask:
"What is it exactly that you know?" (exactly exactly exactly...)
And then, they will take me outside
And they will kill me
That much I do know