Cursed are the blessed
and the failures find success
and the hateful-hearted husbands eat alone.
And as for what is next
let’s hope and pray for less
for we do not deserve even a hint of what we own.
So let’s go, people, it’s time for us to fall.
Into the loving arms that wait for us -
let’s hope that they’re there at all.
The feeble and the fake
even they’ve got what it takes
to help a brother cross the swelling tide.
And all the plans we make
they just bend until they break.
If only we knew how bad we look from outside.
Chorus