All the St John’s Wort in the World

Lyrics
I gaze down at my navel and see a silver spoon Oh God I hope I catch my death I hope I die of something soon The sickly-sweet seasoning of privilege is in everything Is in all my fattening food I'm a glutton for nourishment And I'm ready for my punishment I've tried and I've tried To justify the advantages I've been afforded in my life But I come up short every time Freeze and seize my assets Share them out amongst the needy Despite all my self-righteousness I know that I am far too greedy I cannot reconcile My actions and beliefs So I put myself on trial And I find myself guilty Doctors complicit in denial May diagnose a malady Dish out potions and prescribe Cognitive behavioural therapy But All the St John's Wort in the world Will not cure my weltschmerz Some things are meant to hurt
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Credits
- Producers
- Martin Ruffin