And so it`s begun This is year one The birth of a child in the form of a man Wrapped in towel Passed out on the floor These drunken hours -- graces deflowered Cast down by an angel She used to kiss his weeping eyes Depressed in her bosom Tears roll off her nipple
Sweet baby, don`t cry... Your tears are only alibis To prove you still feel -- You only feel sorry for yourself Well, get on that cross That`s all you`re good for...
And thusly it ends Depression seeps in on a lonely messiah Now he drinks with the lepers Losing a limb, his better half A glass once half full A head hung half-mast He claims he`s the victim Strangled by the nine-to-five And a pattern of stillness That haunted this still life
Your tears are only alibis To prove you still feel You only feel sorry for yourself And that`s how you thrive Your sorrow`s your goldmine So write some sad song about me Screaming your agonies, playing the saint
The Martyr... The Martyr... The Martyr... The Martyr... The Martyr... Oh....
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