I am incapable of regretnI still want what I tried to getnI've been a warmonger for so longnI try to admit I'm wrong, but yetnI am incapable of regretnnI am incapable of restraintnI have never been called a saintnI've been a harbinger of hellnI did my best to tell you ofnWhen I feel hatred, it's rather like lovennIf you take your hands off the bicycle seatnYou're unable to ride the bikenYou ask yourself, Is she serious?nI say yeah, you bet your life.nMy loathing obscures my pain, my arrogance and disdainnFor mortal man, and life, and living soulsnThese are the feelings I choose to exposennI spent a long-ass week on the move to find someone to fight them with, ohnThough I don't have time to, I've got a mind tonTeach you what love really is, ohnWhen you have won some under the gun, son, then you can criticizenBut until then, I'll say it again, you can't see a soul behind my eyesnnI am incapable of regretnI still want what I tried to getnI court no popularitynNor do I receive anynI am incapable of regretnn