Somewhere in my recollection...
I recall a very young man sitting on his hands and knees,
sitting there so submissively.
He was clawing at the dirt.
He held up a single bloodied finger to the sky and he said..
he looked at me and said..
"Crazy, you think I'm crazy? I'LL SHOW YOU CRAZY!
Y'know I LOVE this [bad word] 
I just might keep digging down until I break through solid ground
Crazy, you think I'm crazy? I'LL SHOW YOU CRAZY!"
"It's obvious, you're halfway down a hole that seeks to bury you!"
He had no response.
"Keep digging, boy!"

So there I stood, high upon my pedestal
...just shouting for disaster
...screaming for disaster.
The ground beneath me giving way,
the shouting's getting louder.
The young man slowly fades away
...and in his place anew...
there stands a carbon copy clone of the man that stands before you.

"Keep digging, boy.
Keep digging dirt!"

"Crazy, you think I'm crazy? I'LL SHOW YOU CRAZY!
It's obvious, you've clearly no idea who you are...
...and who you're talking to"

"My God??!!! What have my hands done?"
Covered in sin, covered in bloody sand...
wash away the blood, begin again!
Keep digging dirt...