No one's going to play the harp when I die
Your life was well worth mine
There will be joyous smiles, and no one will cry
I've fucked the ability to ever be divine
Stuck in a labyrinth of the grimy streets
Carry the black hands of jealousy
Grace was yours, mine was deceit
I was worth more than my felonies
I bear the brunt of your crocked teeth
Like gauze to a remedy
I wear the thorns on Jesus' wreath
Just to grant me a little more longevity
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