Lyrics

What success got to your empty head Advice from failures paved quite a path What a stench We'll pray to you that you'll give yourself a chance To heal the sick with your shit stained hands Hand us back more illness than we had And call it a blessing Can I get an amen? It's your curce and you're behind Nine to five playing catch up With other people's time God bless The peasants the lepers the dying and the rats For staying on their side of the fence and understanding being powerless Is your gaurantee to the divine The meek inherit all the scraps that are left behind