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​They're Bad, But We're Worse

This song is by Half-Handed Cloud.

I'm about to faint
No one remembers You
When they're dead
Or praises You from the grave
I can't sing if I'm six-feet-under

Weeping
And it's flooding
In my bedroom
Tear ducts running
You list each one within your record
Enter tears into your ledger

Consider all our sighs
We lay requests before in expectation
My thoughts trouble me
But so do gaping stares of the wicked

Open up their mouth-throat
It's an open grave
It's a misquote
They love each harmful word
Whatever is unbefitting
And the fuzz won't quit

We have sinned today
Even our fathers did
We traded-in the God of Glory
For an image of a cow that eats the pasture

Offered as a sacrifice
All our children
To the demon
We've hurt a lot
And hurt a lot of kinship
Pry us loose from this grip