No Dice Mr. Nice

My mind is just a mangled wreck I'm the driver at the wheel but there's less than I expect tangled in the steel see part of me is gone for good and part of me remains I changed the parts I thought I should the rest of me explains I'm preposterous at worst perfectionist at best hope to die and cross the heart that's beating in my chest a fever chill a codeine pill I'm nearly out of breath a stubborn will I'm feeling ill not nearly half to death sometimes high stakes are what it takes to feel like your alive a roll of dice the nervous shakes that's how we all survive this stories old you're bought and sold a terrifying fate you fit the mold your heart is cold you always hesitate your chance has passed you've finished last the winners never nice; niceguys finish last because they never roll the dice.