We find comfort in knowing other peoples lives are worse than ours
Cause sympathy cost more than scars
A child size coffin
Plaques her past
But she is new
Or will be soon
He's got a look about him
He's gonna die young
But first, he has too
Bury his son
We find comfort in knowing other peoples lives are worse than ours
Cause sympathy cost more than scars
He must have gone manic
Somewhere down the line
With a brother in the attic
Where he spends his time
Jubliant bands play for the hospice
Crooked fingers grip her throat
(I just hope she doesn't choke or fall asleep)
We find comfort in knowing other peoples lives are worse than ours
Cause sympathy cost more than scars
It hurts to be Gentle when there's a boot on your throat
And who can be valiant when your identities a vote
His bodies a temple that he filled with GMO's
His death wasn't painful but we both know it was slow