So could I sit my father’s throne if I were offered? If I were needed? If I thought he was done? And could I mend the crumbling walls of his sovereign? Or keep his promise, when I can’t keep my own?
Well, no. I think I’m better off here wandering aimlessly in this haggard skin No I’m not fit to lead my brother; I’m splintered wood in the eyes of my closest kin
So would it take another stone for me to stumble? Maybe a small branch? Perhaps a pile of dung? This path has gotten overgrown; I think I’ve lost the direction So I’ll just make my own And if that road should lead me home, oh I could prosper I could laugh there; maybe I’ll have a son But if that road should lead into a den of lions Oh I’d be eaten for the wrongs I’ve done
I’ll make my peace now cause there are tyrants standing whichever way I go And they’ve got honey dripping from their lips to entice you down their throats When blood and water mix to finalize the absence of my breath I’ll take a moment to notice there’s nothing left to get me
So now that it’s over I can breathe, cause they can’t get me