The last man standing in our sinister charade beneath the crumbling arches of our counterfeit arcade He nobly knelt before us He sang our savior's chorus We left him spinning bloody plates Upon his broken blade
(chorus) That's just the weight of the world We do what we must to get by That's just the weight of the world The weak and the weary will never survive That's just the weight of the world We do what we must to stay alive That's just the weight of the world We'll all be the weak and the weary some time
One woman whistling a wounded lullaby And preaching pain to every unsuspecting passerby We knew her well before this She promised portraits of us We cut her throat While she waiting for the paint to dry
(chorus)
And in the distance we’ll here melancholy moans The long forgotten have a habit of collecting loans